Ace Attorney: Apollo Gramarye
by WingedEmerald1992
Summary: When Apollo's father died, Thalassa took him back to the troupe, where he grew up as a Gramarye. However, when his mother dies and his step father disappears, if falls on Phoenix Wright to adopt the Gramarye siblings. AU, starting with the return to the troupe and ending through to the end of Apollo Justice. No spoilers for Spirit of Justice!
1. The Troupe

**A/N:** Hey hey guys! Welcome to  Apollo Gramarye _,_ the AU where Apollo grew up with the Gramaryes. This story starts with Thalassa rejoining the troupe, and through to the end of Apollo Justice.

I don't know how much of Dual Destinies, or Spirit of Justice I'll do. It really depends on how much of those games will be impacted by what happens in this story.

The first set of chapters in this story are snapshots of Apollo's early life.

Enough rambling! Here we go!

…

Chapter One: The Troupe

Thalassa stared at the tour bus that belonged to Troupe Gramarye, a small, squirming bundle wrapped in her arms. A tiny hand peeked out, gripping a lock of her hair, calling her attention to it. She leaned in and kissed the top of the baby's forehead, a small tear escaping from her eyes and dripping onto the six months old cheek. He let out a small, surprised squeak, kicking slightly.

"Shh… shh… it's okay, Apollo. It's okay," she said softly, snuggling the baby until he settled down. She then looked up again.

Three months ago, her first husband, the father of Apollo, died in a tragic accident while performing on stage. Now, basically homeless and with a child, she had to come crawling back to her father's Troupe in hopes of being welcomed.

First, she had to talk to Magnifi Gramarye.

With one more deep breath, she stepped forward and knocked on the door to the tour bus. It opened, revealing a man with long, black hair, dressed in yellow.

"Th-Thalassa?" he gasped. She smiled slightly.

"Hello, Valant. How are you?" she asked softly.

"G-good. Surprised to see you here. How have you been?" he asked. Thalassa looked away slightly, more years entering her eyes. Valant bit his lip, realizing he hit a painful nerve.

"Whose at the door, Valant?" a voice demanded from inside. The man studied Thalassa once more, before looking in.

"It's uh… it's your daughter… sir…" he said awkwardly.

Silence filled the bus for a moment longer, before an impatient sigh came from within.

"Let her in."

Valant stepped aside, and Thalassa stepped up, glancing down once to make sure Apollo was okay. The little boy had fallen asleep. She then turned and faced her father. He was standing in the doorway that led into a small bedroom, an aura of power surrounding him. To his left, at the table, sat Zak Gramarye. Valant slipped passed Thalassa and took a seat next to Zak.

"Hello, Father," Thalassa said softly.

"Thalassa. I thought I told you that you were no longer welcome," Magnifi growled, before noticing the bundle in her arms. A sneer crossed his face.

"Please, Father, hear me out. I need help. My husband… he died… and Apollo and I need somewhere to go…"

"You need somewhere to go," Magnifi repeated, looking back up at Thalassa, the sneer still in place.

"Please, Father," Thalassa pleaded, her eyes welling with tears. "Please…"

"Fine. You may rejoin the troupe," he said. His two students glanced at each other, sensing there would be an ultimatum. " _If_ you give him up for adoption."

"What!?" Thalassa gasped, clutching the little bundle closer to her heart. Apollo squirmed slightly in his sleep, gripping Thalassa's hair a little tighter.

"You heard me."

"No… Father _no._ I can't. Apollo is my son, he's all I have left of _him._ Please… you must understand at least that?"

Magnifi stayed quiet, the look on his face stoic, not reacting once to her words. More tears rolled down Thalassa's cheeks, and she looked down, studying the boy in her arms.

Realization struck.

"Father… we're surrounded by press…" she said softly, stroking Apollo's cheek. "What would they say if they found out a Gramarye, direct descendent of _the_ Magnifi Gramarye, was turned away? What would happen to our image?" she asked, never once looking up. Silence once more ruled the small space, making Zak and Valant highly uncomfortable.

"Fine," Magnifi growled, turning back towards the door with a swoosh of his black cape. "Both you and the… bastard child can stay." Thalassa's arms tightened even more around the baby. "But he will _never_ be a Gramarye."

…

 **A/N:** Thus the ending of the first chapter! Magnifi's a jerk, ain't he? Don't worry, Magnifi will get worse…

Well, onto working on the outline of a different story.


	2. Magnifi

**A/N:** Here's the next chapter!

First though, please, **NO SPOILERS FOR "SPIRIT OF JUSTICE."** This story will contain no spoilers, and please don't put any in your review.

That said, I know something here might contradict "Spirit of Justice." That said, it will contradict "Apollo Justice" as well, considering it's an Alternate Universe fic.

Apollo is five here.

Now, ONWARD!

…

Chapter Two: Magnifi

 _Five Years Later_

Valant shuffled the cards in his hands, watching the young boy in front of him. He, like the rest of the Gramaryes, was dressed in a cloak, trimmed with a card suits motif, and a silk top hat, crimson in color. A green, diamond broach clasped the cloak closed over his left shoulder.

"Alright, Apollo. Watch my hands closely," he said. He deftly shuffled, doing a few tricks, before having Apollo pick a card. Mystified, he carefully pulled one out, jealously holding it close so Valant wouldn't see. The man smiled, leaning closer slightly. "You have to remember it," he said.

"I am!" Apollo replied heatedly, before quickly looking at it. His head then snapped up, the silk hat slipping back slightly, forcing him to quickly reach up and catch it. "Got it!"

"Alright. I'm going to thumb through the deck. Tell me when to stop," Valant said. Apollo nodded, still gripping his card tightly. Valant began, the cards making a sharp slapping noise as each hit the next.

"Stop!" Apollo said with a bounce once he was in the middle of the deck. Valant smiled, holding the bottom of the deck.

"Alright, now place your card on top, face down."

"Alright!" Apollo did as he was told. Valant began shuffling his cards quickly again, before suddenly throwing the cards into the air. Apollo gasped, looking up as he watched after the cards.

"Look under your hat, Apollo," Valant said. Looking at the man in confusion, he pushed his hand up under his hat. His eyes widened as his searching fingers found something sitting on top of his hair, and he pulled it out, turning to see it.

"Was the Ace of Diamonds your card?" Valant asked.

"WOW!" he squealed in his five year old way. "Teach me, Uncle Valant. Please!?" he begged, nearly jumping across the table. Valant laughed heartily at that.

"Alright, as soon as you pick up the cards."

"Okay!" Apollo jumped down and darted around, his red cape flapping behind him, as he picked up the 51 scattered cards, the Ace of Diamonds still sitting on the table. Once they were all collected, Valant got to work teaching Apollo the trick.

…

"Grandpa! Grandpa!" little Apollo called, darting into the head magician's study. Magnifi looked up from his work with a frown, watching the little red ball of energy bounce towards him.

"I want to show you a trick! Uncle Valant taught it to me, and it's a lot of fun, and I think you'll really enjoy it, so can I show it to you, please!?" Apollo asked, all in one big breath. Without waiting for Magnifi's answer, which would have been no, he whipped a deck of cards from under his cloak and shuffled it, before fanning it out and holding it up to the man. "Pick a card! Any card!"

Magnifi rolled his eyes with a frown, but picked a card. Apollo continued to go through the trick, just as Valant had taught him. Of course, being five, he messed up here and there, making Magnifi's patient wear thinner and thinner.

When Apollo threw the cards was when Magnifi snapped.

"STOP!" he roared, surging to his feet. Apollo's little face drained of color as he looked up at his grandfather. "This is ridiculous, boy. I don't know why you bother continuing to try," he growled. "Everyone knows you'll never be a magician."

Tears welled into Apollo's eyes, and he looked at the mess of cards around them.

"B-but…"

"NOW GET OUT!" he roared, sending the little five year old running. Magnifi sighed, sitting again, before feeling something against the top of his head, under his hat. Reaching up, he pulled a card out: The Ace of Clubs.

The card he had originally picked.

He had no idea how or when it got there.

With a scowl of disgust, he threw it into the trash and returned to his work.

…

"MOMMY!" Apollo cried, ramming his head into the woman's stomach, his arms wrapping around her tightly as he sobbed. Valant and Zak both looked on in surprise, having been talking by talking about their next performance.

"Apollo? Sweetie? What is it?" Thalassa asked, prying her son's arms from around her long enough for her to kneel down to his height. His arms wrapped around her neck, and he sobbed into her shoulder. "Apollo, please, what happened?"

"G-g-grandpa…" he sniffled. Thalassa frowned, having an idea of where this was going. "I… I showed him… a trick Uncle Valant taught me… and… and he… yelled at me! And told me… that everyone knew… I wasn't going to become a magician…" He yanked back, looking up at Thalassa. "That's not true, right!? I'll become a magician, right!? Like you, and Zak, and Uncle Valant! …Right…?"

"Oh sweetie, of course you will!" Thalassa said, pulling the boy close again. You will be one of the best magicians I know. Your grandfather… he's just a cranky old man."

"He doesn't like me… does he…?" Apollo whimpered.

"He… doesn't like a lot of people," Thalassa said. Apollo nodded, his sobs fading into sniffles.

"Thalassa, I'm so sorry, I had no idea this would happen," Valant said softly, putting a hand on the woman's shoulder. Thalassa shook her head at the man, a silent motion of him not to worry about it.

"You know, Apollo," she said, leaning back and tipping the boy's head up. "I would _love_ to see your new trick."

The boy looked at his mother for a moment before wiping his face off on the back of his gloved hand and smiling.

"Okay, Mommy."

…

 **A/N:** And here we are! Sorry for the rollercoaster of emotions, haha.

I hate Magnifi. Can't you tell?


	3. Zak

**A/N:** Here's the next chapter! Little Apollo!

He's six here.

…

Chapter Three: Zak

 _A Year Later_

Apollo bit his lip, his eyes narrowed as he worked on making a card float up from the midst of the rest of the deck.

"Impressive," a voice said from above. Apollo jumped slightly, the card, which was at the top of the deck now, falling. He looked up, only to find Zak standing over him.

"Hi, Zak!" he said, reaching down to pick up the card.

"Sorry for messing up your trick," he said, sitting next to the boy. Apollo grinned at him.

"It's okay!" Apollo said, swinging his legs. "Did you see the card floating?" he asked brightly.

"I did! You're getting good at card magic, Apollo," Zak said, swiping the boy's hat to ruffle his hair, before replacing the hat again.

"Hey!" he whined, reaching up in an attempt to fix it. He then looked up at Zak before sighing. "Grandpa doesn't seem to think so," he mumbled. Zak sighed, wrapping an arm around the boy.

"Don't worry about him, okay? You just believe in yourself," he said, giving him a squeeze. Apollo smiled again with a nod, and he began to work on floating card trick again.

"So, Apollo," Zak began, unsure of how the boy would react to this. Apollo pushed the card back into the deck and gave the man his full attention.

"Yes?"

"Well, me and your mommy have been dating for a while," Zak started. Apollo watched him, his expression unchanging. "And, well… we're in love…" Again, Apollo's expression remained unchanged. "You're not surprised?"

"Mommy already told me all of this," Apollo said.

"Oh. Well, how would you feel if I asked your mommy to marry me?" Zak asked. Apollo put a finger to his forehead, a tiny pout of thought on his face.

"What would that mean?" he asked.

"Well, me and your mommy would be together legally, which means her last name would become Enigmar. And I would adopt you, so you would become my son, and your last name would be Enigmar too," he explained. Apollo hesitated for a moment.

"Nothing would change between us… right?" he asked.

"The only thing that might is if you want to call me 'daddy,' he said. Apollo thought for a moment longer before looking up at Zak with a grin.

"Okay... daddy!"

…

If Apollo had known he'd be expected to wear a tuxedo to the ceremony, he would have said no. However, here he was, standing next to Valant, dressed in a stuffy, stiff tuxedo.

"Are you ready?" Valant asked, leaning down to Apollo's level.

"Mhm," he said, nodding at the man. Just then, Thalassa, dressed in a beautiful, white gown, and her new husband, Zak, dressed in a white tux, came out of the doors to the chapel, to the cheers of their friends and fans who had witnessed their reunion.

"Now!" Valant said, and both he and Apollo threw their arms into the air. Hundreds of pure, white dove's burst forth from their coat sleeves, soaring over the crowd and newly married couple, causing everyone to gasp in amazement. Valant smiled warmly at the boy he viewed as a nephew.

"Good job," he said warmly. Apollo grinned back.

"Thanks, Uncle Valant!" he said brightly.

…

 **A/N:** A little short, but important considering. Valant taught him the dove trick!

Well, I don't think I'm going to update again tonight, so… Good night!


	4. Little Sister

**A/N:** Progress! Thank you for all of the lovely reviews! I'm pretty sure I replied to all but one.

 **Review Reply to Gamergirl:** Seriously! Polly is just so cute! And this wondering (plus Wolfiered23) is what led me to write this. And you shall see how he becomes a lawyer!

 **OH MY GOSH WOLFIERED23, I AM SO SORRY!** I totally forgot to give you the credit for giving me this idea! Everyone, it was Wolfiered23 who gave me the idea for this fic!

Apollo is seven here.

Alright, onward!

…

Chapter Four: Little Sister

 _A Year Later_

Thalassa watched with warm eyes as her husband, Shadi Enigmar (better known as Zak Gramarye), leaned close to her son from her first marriage, now his adopted son, Apollo.

"Look here, Apollo. It's all an illusion," he said, smacking two aluminum rings together, until finally, he let go of the bottom one. Apollo's eyes widened in wonder as he looked at the two rings; once separate, but now linked. He then looked at his own rings.

"How did you do that!?" he gasped. Shadi laughed, breaking the trick down to teach him. Thalassa smiled warmly, watching the two as she rubbed her belly. Inside, she could feel the warmth of new life, ready to come out any time now.

In short: Thalassa was nine months pregnant.

"There you go!" Shadi nearly roared, his hands on his hips as he watched the excited seven year old hop around excitedly.

"Look, Mommy! Look, Mommy! They're linked together! Daddy showed me how and I got it!" he cheered, darting over to the woman. Thalassa smiled warmly.

"Well, will you lo—" she cut off with a gasp, grabbing her stomach.

"Mommy…?" Apollo asked, his eyes wide.

"Thalassa!?" Shadi gasped, darting over to his wife.

"I… it's the baby… he or she just… kicked me hard," Thalassa explained, though she sounded a little breathless.

"Mommy, why is your dress wet?" Apollo asked. Both adults looked at him for a moment, before looking at Thalassa now soaked lap.

"The baby…" Shadi gasped.

"My water broke…" Thalassa mumbled.

…

Trying to keep a seven year old entertained in a hospital waiting room would normally be difficult. However, Valant was doing a good job of that with Apollo by teaching him new card tricks. Magnifi sniffed disdainfully, but Apollo had a blast while they awaited the arrival of his new baby brother or sister.

Finally, after many hours of waiting, Shadi came out.

"Well, she's here," he said, causing everyone to look up. Shadi's face broke into a huge grin. "And it's a girl."

"Ew…" Apollo grumbled, having been hoping for a baby brother.

"Congratulations, my boy," Magnifi said with a warm smile, standing and patting the man on his shoulder. "Come, let us see her."

Shadi nodded, leading the three back. Thalassa, exhausted but happy Thalassa, laid in the hospital bed, cradling a pink bundle in her arms. Apollo immediately went over first, climbing onto the bed next to his mother to look at the sleeping baby.

"She's all… squishy," he commented after a moment, looking up at his mother, who laughed.

"You were squishy too when you were first born, sweetheart," she said, kissing the boy's tall forehead. Apollo huffed, but smiled at the kiss. "Apollo, meet your new baby sister, Trucy Enigmar."

…

 **A/N:** And here's to another chapter! I winded up falling asleep, or else this would have been up an hour or two sooner. Sorry!


	5. Mother

**A/N:** Alright, here we go with the next chapter! This one takes a turn for the worse, unfortunately…

But first, review replies!

 **Gamergirl:** Everyone was waiting for Trucy, haha. They'll be close, no worries! Polly's a good big brother! And because he will. After all, he approved of Thalassa's marriage to one of his disciples. It's no secret he favored Zak. I see what you're doing with the songs again!

 **Nonny:** Thank you! I'm having a lot of fun writing it! No, I haven't, and I can't find it either! (I just spent an hour searching after reading your review…) More has arrived!

Alright, that takes care of that!

Apollo is twelve here, Trucy is five.

…

Chapter Five: Mother

 _Five Years Later_

Apollo sat in the stands of a makeshift theater, his younger sister, Trucy, right next to him. Trucy giggled up a storm as Apollo reached behind her ear and pulled out a chocolate coin.

"Whoa!" she squealed, before reaching for the candy. Apollo laughed, giving it to her.

"Don't give too many more of those to your sister, Apollo!" Shadi called from where he was setting up on stage.

"Alright, Dad!" Apollo called back distractedly, rolling another of the coins between his fingers. Shadi sighed, but shook his head at that. Trucy's eyes followed it as she ate the first one.

"He's such a dedicated older brother," Valant commented, and Shadi smiled warmly.

"He is. Especially as they get older."

"I love their relationship," Thalassa said with a warm smile, passing the two as she carried a prop.

Just then, Magnifi entered the stands, and his three students fell quiet, resuming their work.

"Hello, dear," he said, bending down, moving the hat, and kissing the top of Trucy's head.

"Hi, grandpa!" Trucy giggled, waving chocolate covered fingers.

He replaced the hat and looked at his grandson. "Boy." He then turned and walked to the front row. Apollo scowled after him, resentment for the man clawing at his stomach.

"Again! Again, Polly, again!" Trucy squealed, grabbing Apollo's hand. Apollo sighed at the name, earned when his sister had just started talking and couldn't pronounce his real name, but smiled all the same and continued his tricks for her. Among the things he made appear were flowers, colored handkerchiefs, more coins, and even a bunny.

"Alright, you three. We're going to practice the Zak & Valant Quick-Draw Shoot 'em," Magnifi said. Trucy squealed and sat straight up in her seat, her attention yanked from her older brother. Apollo didn't care though, as he turned towards the stage as well.

This was one of the most dangerous, yet amazing stunts of the Gramarye arsenal, and while Apollo found himself not really being one for the stage – he preferred close contact magic – he appreciated the more difficult tricks.

Zak and Valant moved a few yards apart, each holding a golden prop pistol. Thalassa stepped in between the two, sweeping her hat off her head and bowing.

The idea of the trick was that the two men would shoot at her, but the bullets would change direction and shoot around the stage, not hitting anyone.

That didn't happen this time.

Instead, when the two men shot, Thalassa dropped to the ground. A stunned silence filled the room.

"Mommy…?" Trucy said, sitting up straighter. Apollo felt bile rise into his throat as he noticed red pooling around his mother's head, and he grabbed Trucy, his hand on the back of her head, forcing it to stay hidden in his chest.

"Th-Thalassa…?" Shadi's voice shook, and the two men dropped their guns, rushing towards the fallen woman. Magnifi quickly ran onto the stage as well, before remembering his two grandchildren in the stands.

"Get out," he told Apollo.

"But—"

"NOW!" he roared. Apollo picked up his sister and ran, worry, fear and dread coursing through him.

…

Apollo wondered aimlessly around the Gramarye camp, his feet just moving as his mind swam with the words his father had said to him and his sister just an hour ago.

 _I… I'm sorry, but… your mother. She's, uh, she's dead…_

Shadi's eyes had swam with tears as he had said that, but it was nothing to what Apollo felt. He knew Shadi wasn't his biological father, and although he was great, Thalassa was the last of Apollo's biological family who actually _wanted_ him.

 _No, that isn't true…_ Apollo thought. _There's Trucy too…_

"Yes, that's perfect," a voice drifted out of one of the tents. Apollo looked up, recognizing it as Magnifi's personal tent, and found himself moving closer.

"Thank you. I'll make sure none of this makes it to the press. At least I was able to send her away."

Apollo felt ice grip his spine, his eyes having widened.

He heard the click of a phone, and before he knew what he was doing, he had burst into the tent.

"What do you mean, sent her away!?" he demanded. Magnifi looked up, shock crossing his features, before morphing into anger. "You were talking about my mother, weren't yo—"

 _SMACK_

Apollo's head whipped to the side from the force of the backhand, falling into a stunned silence.

"That was for eavesdropping, boy," he growled. Apollo stepped back from the man, his eyes huge. "Now, GET OUT!" Apollo turned and ran, his cheek still stinging.

…

A few days passed. Apollo had withdrawn into himself, worrying Shadi.

"All he does is hide in his room anymore, Valant. He's tried to say something to me, but each time, he just falls silent again. And he hasn't played with Trucy at all…"

"Shadi, he just lost his mother, and he _witnessed_ it. It's no surprise he's withdrawn," Valant said, putting a hand on Shadi's shoulder. He sighed.

"I know. I just worry."

"It's your job as a father to worry, no one's faulting you for that," Valant said, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

Apollo sat on his bed, playing with a bracelet, the only thing he had left of his mother. He didn't know what to think or say, or do anymore. The funeral had been closed casket.

 _Grandfather sent her away…_ he thought. _Is she still alive? Is she dead? But if so, why would he send her away?_

"Boy!" a voice snapped from outside of his room, and he quickly pushed the bracelet into his pocket, not wanting Magnifi to take it from him. The older man appeared in his doorway, looking over his grandson in disdain.

"Yes, Grandfather?" Apollo asked softly.

"Come. We need an assistant, and you fit the bill," he said, grabbing the boy's arm and dragging him up and out of the room.

"B-but Grandfather, I don't want to do stage magic!" Apollo protested, wincing at how tight the man's grip on his arm was. "Beside's, I thought you said I would never be a mag—" he cut off as Magnifi raised his free hand, his cheek tingling where the man had slapped him before.

"Enough, boy," he growled, before continuing to drag the now silent boy along.

…

 **A/N:** Yes. Yes, I know. I'm cruel. Things are no longer adorable…

Sorry!


	6. The Turning Point

**A/N:** Onward to finish this before I have to go to work!

No review replies this time. Oh well!

Apollo is fifteen, Trucy is eight here.

I will also begin to write Apollo's POV from here on out.

…

Chapter Six: The Turning Point

 _Three Years Later_

I plastered a huge grin across my face, swept off my top hat, and bowed to the cheering audience of Gatewater Land, Dad and Uncle Valant doing the same on either side of me.

"Thank you again!" Dad cried, before the three of us exited, stage left, to where Trucy and Grandfather waited.

"You were awesome, Daddy! Polly!" Trucy squealed, darting forward and throwing her arms around the two of us. My fake smile morphed into a small, real one as I hugged Trucy back.

"Thanks, kiddo," I said, while Dad ruffled her hair.

"Mediocre, at best," Grandfather said, with a frown at me. "You need more practice, all three of you!" He turned his eyes on Dad and Uncle Valant, and a sick feeling rolled through me.

Since my mother's death, Grandfather controlled those two, always hanging the accident over their head. Neither knew which fired the killing shot, and I don't think we'll ever find out. Not that I blamed either of them for her death. Accidents just… happen.

As for me, I hated my Grandfather with a bitter passion… but I was scared of him as well. The only one free from his controlling grasp was Trucy… for now.

"Magnifi, please, we need a break," Uncle Valant said. "We're tired – all of us. Including yo—"

"Silence!" Grandfather snapped, and I couldn't help but flinch slightly. "We will take a break when I say so. For now, we… we will…" he swayed suddenly, and Dad let go of me and Trucy to catch him as he collapsed, falling unconscious.

…

"Your grandfather is dying, Apollo," Dad said, sitting on my bed next to me. I fiddled with Mom's bracelet, which had stayed hidden in my room for the past three years. "Apparently, he's diabetic, and in the third stage of cancer."

"The amazing Magnifi Gramarye, bought down by a muggle illness," I said bitterly, slipping the bracelet onto my wrist. Dad didn't say anything, just wrapped at arm around me. I leaned against him, closing my eyes. Despite my hatred for the man, and the hell he's put all of us through… a strange sadness was overcoming me.

"How's Trucy?" I asked.

"Sad. She… doesn't have the same history with your Grandfather as you do…" he said, rubbing my back. I simply sighed.

"'History'… right."

…

Grandfather had been in the hospital for quite some time when the letter came. I found Dad's, already opened, and couldn't help but read it myself.

Basically, Grandfather wanted Dad to kill him, using one of the prop pistols. One that might have killed Mom, and he couldn't refuse for reasons 'they both knew.' There was a specific time as well.

I decided to go first, about thirty minutes before Dad was supposed to.

The hospital room was quiet except for the soft snoring of Grandfather, and the beeps of the machines monitoring his life. Laid up in bed like that, he seemed almost… harmless. Weak.

I carefully crept forward, to where the prop pistols sat on the nightstand, and picked one up, surprised at how heavy it was.

"What do you think you're doing, boy!?" Grandfather suddenly growled. I jumped, turning to face him, still holding the gun. He was still laying in the hospital bed, glaring at me, and all the fear I had of this man melted.

"Grandfather," I spat. "I found the note you sent to Dad. I decided I needed to talk to you before you died." My hands tightened around the pistol as I spoke. "For fifteen years, you treated me like dirt. Always told me I'd never be a magician… or a Gramarye. Did you really hate me _that much?_ " I demanded. Grandfather stayed silent, just watching me with cold eyes. I growled softly.

"Fine! I don't even care about that!" I could feel my voice rising, but I didn't care. "What about Mom. Where is she!? Where did you send her! I heard you on the phone that day, saying you sent her away, and there was no reason it should have been a closed casket funeral! _Where is she!?_ " Before I knew it, I was pointing the gun at his face, my arms trembling.

"Thalassa Gramarye is dead, boy," he snarled. I almost believed him.

His right eye twitched slightly.

" _LIAR!"_ I yelled. My entire body was trembling now, tears blurring my vision. "You did something! What was it!?"

Grandfather didn't answer. With a yell of frustration, I tried to squeeze the trigger. I tried to shoot that smug man in the face, to save Dad the trouble of doing so.

I couldn't bring myself to do it.

"What's wrong, boy? Don't have the guts?" Grandfather asked in a mocking tone.

" _SHUT UP!"_ I yelled, trying again, and again unable to. Silence ruled the room for a moment, before I threw the gun onto the nightstand and ran out.

He was right. I was a coward.

…

Despite everything that Grandfather had put Dad through, I knew he wouldn't be able to kill him tonight. Especially with how good a mood he was in when he returned home. I was in bed, curled on my side, still trembling slightly.

"Apollo?" Dad asked, coming in and putting a hand on my shoulder. "Are you feeling alright?"

"No…" I mumbled. I didn't want him to know what I had almost done.

"What is it?"

"I just feel tired… and ill," I spoke into my pillow. I could almost feel Dad hesitate, but then he sighed and patted my shoulder.

"Daaaaaaddy!" Trucy's sing-songy voice filled the air. "There's a cop at the door who wants to talk to you!"

"A cop?" Dad asked, standing. I turned my head as well, quickly wiping the residual tears away, before getting up and following, curious.

"Shadi Enigmar, you are under arrest for the murder of Magnifi Gramarye," the cop said as he put Dad into handcuffs. "You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say and do can be used against you in a court of law…"

"Wait, what!?" Trucy gasped, her eyes wide. I quickly caught her before she could run out the door after the men.

"Trucy, Apollo, don't worry!" Dad called over his shoulder. "I'll be okay!"

…

 **A/N:** Well… it got a little intense there. I played with the idea of having Apollo be arrested, but I didn't know how to go about it that way, and still have Valant responsible for the framing (he'd never frame Apollo) and still have Zak disappear, so…


	7. Abandoned

**A/N:** Alright, here's the next chapter! Here, we see how Apollo starts influencing the game!

But first, review replies!

 **Gamergirl:** Magnifi has screwed with Apollo's head so much growing up, he sometimes can't help but think the man's right about a few things. Phoenix will set him straight though! You'll see what happens here! Apollo won't get in trouble though, because he did have gloves. After all, he wears the full Gramarye getup. More track references, yay!

 **Nonny:** Yep! I work fast when I have time! And that explains it: I don't really go on tumblr. I'll definitely check it out though! Thanks!

No time jump here!

Alright, onward!

…

Chapter Seven: Abandoned

The defendant lobby was calmer then I had been expecting it to be. I was sitting on a small, red couch, near the doors, while Dad paced. I felt sick, nausea rolling through my stomach, at the thought of the impending trial.

Especially when I found out that Dad hired his Defense Attorney over a game of _cards_.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom!" Trucy announced, hopping up and dashing off.

"Ah, Trucy, wait!" I called, standing.

"She should be fine, Apollo, don't worry," Dad said. "After all, we are in a courthouse."

"R-right…" I sat again.

I had a _really_ bad feeling about today.

Just then, a tall man in a blue suit with spiky hair walked in, looking deep in thought. He snapped out of it only when Dad walked over to him.

"Ah, good morning, Mr. Enigmar," he said, flashing a smile.

"I'm… sorry to have sprung this on you so suddenly," Dad said.

 _Isn't this his job?_ I thought.

"I reveived the files from your previous attorney only yesterday. Honestly, I'm not entirely sure I'm prepared," the man admitted.

"Wait, previous attorney? _Yesterday!?_ " I demanded, standing.

"Apollo, shush," Dad said, glancing back at me before looking at his attorney again. "…I understand I am asking the impossible of you." The attorney rubbed the back of his head with a sigh.

"Yes, well, you haven't really told me what happened yet!" he said. I groaned. I loved Dad, but he was just digging himself into a hole here! If he didn't tell his attorney what was going on, then _how_ could he defend him!? "All we did… was play cards."

"And that was enough."

I could almost see a vein throbbing on the man's temple, and I couldn't blame him.

Just then, Trucy skipped back in and right over to the two men.

"Oh, morning!" she said brightly, her stance matching Dad's: hands on hips, eyes closed with a big grin.

"Ah, I'm glad you're back," he said. Trucy crossed her arms, studying the attorney.

"You okay, Daddy? They picking on you?" she demanded, and I couldn't help but smile at how cute she was being. Dad laughed.

"I am fine, as always," he assured her. "This old boy is here to help me, after all."

Another vein on the man's temple, but he smiled anyways and kneeled down to Trucy's height. I stood from the couch and wandered over.

"Good morning," he said. "That's a cute outfit you have on."

"Thanks!" Trucy said brightly. "My first show's today, after all!"

"Huh?" I asked, looking down at her, confused. _Show? What show? Why hasn't she told me?_

"Oh, I'm sure it is!" the man said enthusiastically, though he seemed just as confused as me.

"Oh! Old boy!" Trucy said, as though just remembering something.

"Huh? Me?" the man asked with the slightest twitch of his eye.

"Um, uh… here." She held out what seemed like a folded paper, ripped from a book. The man took it, reading it with curious eyes.

"What's this…?" he asked.

"I dunno! I just got it over there in the hall," she admitted. "They told me to give it to the 'old boy in the blue suit with the spiky hair.'"

"Trucy what have I told you about talking to strangers?" I said in my best older brother voice. She looked at me for a moment.

"Not to talk to them? But this was different! I wasn't _talking_ to them, I was _doing a favor_ for them!" she retorted, crossing her arms. I groaned softly at that, pinching the bridge of my nose.

It was impossible to win an argument with an eight year old… especially when Dad laughed at all of her answers, like he was doing now. The man, on the other hand, was studying the paper again, and Trucy turned back to him.

"They said it was really important!" she said brightly. Dad finally stopped laughing, and looked over curiously, albeit a lot more seriously.

"…What's this? A memo for you or some such?" he asked. I looked at it curiously as well.

"Hmm… Not from the looks of it," the attorney said, still studying it. Dad grew thoughtful. "I'll give it a read later," he said, putting it in his briefcase.

"Well, how do you feel about the trial today?" Dad asked.

"We'll get through it. Somehow," the attorney said, not sounding sure at all. A groan bubbled up in my throat at the thought. "Incidentally… the prosecutor today is a new guy, I hear."

"Ah… an easy win then, yes?" Dad asked, and I perked up at the thought.

"They're calling him a 'true thoroughbred in the history of the prosecutor's office.'" The attorney said thoughtfully. I deflated, and Dad sighed. Trucy, on the other hand, was over at the red couch, studying the painting hanging over it. "…Of course, there's one of those every year."

"…The switching of attorneys just before the trial… I know it is a difficult situation I put you in," Dad said. "But… allow me to say one thing, Mr. Wright."

"…Yes?" Mr. Wright sounded unsure.

"They will not be able to pronounce me guilty today," Dad announced. My eyebrows drew together in confusion, and I looked up at him.

"Dad? What do you mean?" I asked, though my question went unanswered.

"So, do your best, but do not worry."

"I'll do what I can," Mr. Wright said with a smile, causing Dad to laugh.

"I see you do not understand," he said in amusement. Anger began to grow in my chest at the way Dad was talking in circles. "You see, it will be _impossible_ for them to declare a verdict."

"I-impossible?" Mr. Wright asked.

"Dad, what are you saying?" I demanded.

"Yes." Again, I was ignored. It was starting to sting a little. "Isn't that right, Trucy?" Trucy twirled around, skipping over.

"Yup! You bet, Daddy," she said. I looked between my father and little sister, realizing I was out of the loop of something pretty big.

"Dad, Trucy, what are you talking about?" I asked. Trucy looked at me, like she wanted to tell me, but Dad simply gave my shoulder a squeeze.

"Nothing, Apollo, nothing for you to worry about," he said, giving me a warm smile. He then looked up at his defense attorney. "I believe the curtains will be lifting any time now. I am in your capable hands, Mr. Wright."

…

Trucy and I quickly found seats in the galley. I wanted to sit up front, to see what was going on, but Trucy yanked me down in the back, right near the doors.

"I wanna sit here, Polly!" she announced.

"But we're too short, Trucy. Can't we sit up front?" I asked. She looked up at me with determined, on the verge of tears eyes, her cheeks puffed out, and I relented. "Fine, we can sit here," I sighed.

"Yay!" she squealed, flopping down. I sighed once more, taking my seat as well.

Everyone around us talked amongst themselves. After all, this case wasn't exactly unknown. They didn't fall quiet until the judge slammed his hammer thingy – a gavel? – down.

"Court is now in session for the trial of Shadi Enigmar," the judge announced.

"The defense is ready, Your Honor," Mr. Wright announced, a calm, collected look on his face. The man on the other side of the courtroom, however, didn't look anything like a prosecutor. He wasn't wearing a suit. Instead, he had a heavy medallion hanging from a chain around his neck, and was wearing sunglasses (inside? Who _does_ that?).

He smirked, snapping his fingers to a tune only he could here.

"Is the prosecution ready?" the judge asked.

"I was just thinking, is this what all the fuss is about?" the man said, putting his hands in his pockets and looking up at the defense attorney. His German accent sounded totally fake. "Bit of a buzz-kill, really."

"'Buzz-kill'…?" the judge asked. "Is this some new kind of crime?"

Seriously? This was the man who would determine if Dad was guilty or not.

"Oh man…" I mumbled. Trucy giggled, swinging her legs.

"One of the worst. This is a trial, ja? Where are the sweaty palms? The pounding hearts? A Gavinners concert's got ten times the thrill this gig's got."

Trucy gasped, grabbing my arm.

"Polly? Is he a performer?" she asked.

"Maybe. If so, definitely one of the more eccentric ones," I replied. "Now shush, I'm trying to listen."

"Klavier Gavin. I came… to get the party started. Legally, ja?"

"Gavin? Defense Attorney Kristoph Gavin's…?" the judge began to ask.

"Ah, figures my bro's more famous in this part of town." He looked up at Mr. Wright, then back down with a smirk. "I know what you're thinking: 'You're out of your league, rock-boy.'"

Mr. Wright didn't answer.

"True, my debut single, '13 Years Hard Time for Love,' went platinum overnight…"

 _That has to do with this… how exactly?_ I thought, finding myself liking the prosecutor less and less.

"…But that's just a hobby to me compared to this, ja?"

"…Talkative, aren't you?" Mr. Wright asked. "I like your affected Euro-rock accent, but the way." I had to smother my laughter at that, finding myself liking the defense attorney more and more.

"I'm just getting warmed up, Herr Attorney Wright," Mr. Gavin said. The judge slammed his gavel.

"Perhaps you would be so kind as to fill us in on the case?" he asked.

"…Achtung, baby. Time to call on the opeing act."

"Polly, what does 'ach… achoo...' that word mean?" Trucy asked, pulling on my cape once more. I pressed my lips together for a moment, before leaning in closer to her.

"He just sneezed, Trucy, that's all. Now shush. Please?"

"Hmph." Trucy crossed her arms, puffing her cheeks out, and turned away from me. I sighed and looked up again.

A detective, who seemed to have history with Mr. Wright, gave his testimony, talking about the scene of the crime, and the circumstances. He was so… nonchalant about it.

However, I couldn't help but remember the feeling of the pistol in my hand, its weight, the power I had to take the life of the man who made mine hell for the past fifteen years. I shivered slightly, wrapping my arms around myself under my cape.

Obviously, I couldn't shoot him. But did Dad? I mean, I doubt that. Despite his torment for the past three years, both Dad and Uncle Valant looked up to him.

"Hm… I believe the question before us is clear, then. Why did the killer have to shoot this dying man?" the judge asked after they had discussed all of Grandfather's medical issues. "What reason could he have had?"

"Very will, Detective. Perhaps you can enlighten us as to the circumstances of the shooting," Mr. Gavin directed.

"Y-yes, sir!" the detective on the witness stand saluted. He then proceeded to tell the court about the letter, where Grandfather had been shot, and the pistol. I gripped my arms at the thought of the pistol.

"One thing bothers me about this," Mr. Wright said, tapping the letter. "Why didn't he just say '11'? Why have hi come at '11:05' without some specific reason…?"

"The devil I is the details, Herr Attorney…" Mr. Gavin said with a smirk.

"Well? Was there some reason?" the judge demanded.

"As it turns out, there was. Every night, for a half hour, starting at eleven… the victim, Magnifi Gramarye, was given an IV," Mr. Gavin announced, and my stomach plummeted as I realized how close I came to being the one on the stand. If I had staying the hospital room any longer, a doctor would have walked in on me pointing the gun at my grandfather's face.

I stood.

"Polly?" Trucy asked, looking after me.

"Bathroom," I muttered, quickly making my escape. I needed air.

I quickly made my way to the door, pushed it open, and took a few steps outside, sinking down onto the top step.

Down, at the bottom, was a large group of reports, complete with cameras, waiting for the end of this trial.

"Hey, are you okay?" a voice asked. I looked up in time to see a girl, maybe about eighteen, sit next to me. She was wearing a white lab coat and pink glasses on top of her head, which matched the pink hat she wore.

"Yeah," I said, surprise. She looked at me thoughtfully.

"You don't seem it," she replied, tipping her head to the side, a finger on her chin. She took in my hat and cape. "You bummed about the Gramarye case, aren't you?"

"Huh?"

"Well, scientifically speaking, the odds of someone wearing that getup and _not_ being part of Troupe Gramarye is almost nill!" the girl said.

"S-scientifically?" I asked, feeling a sudden sense of whiplash. Who _was_ this girl!?

The girl nodded. "Yep!" She leaned back. "Wait a minute! You're Apollo Gramarye! Assistant to the great Zak and Valant Gramarye!" she gasped. I blushed slightly.

"Yeah. Um… want to see a trick?" I offered. She perked up.

"Sure!"

I pulled a deck out of my pocket and shuffled them, grinning at the delight in her eyes as I did a few trick shuffles. I then fanned out the deck, holding it towards her.

"Pick a card, any card," I offered. He looked thoughtful for a moment before selecting one.

"Now, I'm going to fan through the deck. Tell me when to stop," I said once I was sure she remembered it. She nodded once more, and I fanned through the deck, stopping only once she said so. She replaced the card, and I shuffled some more, before replacing the deck back in my pocket.

"Tada!" I said, holding up my hands. Her eyes clouded in confusion.

"That's it?" she demanded, sounding a little upset.

I feigned confusion myself. "You wanted more?" I asked. "Alright, let's see…" I fiddled with my broach 'in thought' for a moment. "Well, do you have anything in your pocket I can use as a prop?" I asked. She studied me for a moment, before reaching into her pocket.

She froze, her eyes wide for a moment.

From her pocket, she pulled out a card, the back facing me. I smirked.

"Was your card the two of hearts?" I asked.

"Whoa!" she gasped, a hand to her cheek as she stared at the card, which I still had yet to see. "How did you do that?" she demanded. I grinned, holding up my empty hands.

"Magic."

"Here you are. Come along, we need to get to the evidence room," a man said, suddenly appearing behind us. The girl jumped to her feet.

"R-right!" She looked at me. "Um, here," she said, holding out the card. I shook my head.

"Keep it," I said with a smile.

"Really? Thanks! Bye Apollo!" she called, following after the man.

"Bye—" I cut off, realizing I never got her name. But by the time I could ask, she was gone.

…

By the time I returned to the courtroom, after taking a walk around the court house, Uncle Valant was on the witness stand, and Trucy was no where the be found. I sighed, feeling as though I should go look for her, but also curious.

"It's not too late to rethink this and avoid more… embarrassment," Mr. Gavin said with a smirk at the defense. I shuddered at how ominous his words were. The judge slammed his gavel.

"Very well. Please show us your evidence, Mr. Wright," he said.

"Incidentally, don't even think of showing us this diary I've just shown the court," Mr. Gavin said, holding up Grandfather's diary. Mr. Wright looked surprised for a moment. "Now that we've come this far, I hope you have something a little more… decisive. Show us evidence that proves the victim continued writing his diary!"

"Alright." Mr. Wright looked calm as ever. "I'd be happy to. The decisive evidence proving that the diary didn't end with this page is…" he rummaged through his files until he found a certain paper.

" _Take that!"_ he put it aside and picked the diary back up. "First… take a closer look at this diary. Note that a page has clearly _been ripped out!_ "

"What's this…!?" the judge gasped. "I hadn't noticed that at all…"

Mr. Wright stared at the judge for a moment before putting a hand to his chin. "As it just so happens, I have here what I believe to be the missing page." He held up the paper.

"Allaka-I-don't-believe-it!" Uncle Valant cried.

"Looking at this page…" Mr. Wright started, tapping the paper. "It's hard to imagine that the _first visitor_ that night shot Magnifi Gramarye. That's the defense's position."

"W-wait! Let me see that!" the judge demanded. Mr. Wright handed it to the bailiff, who gave it to the judge, who studied it. "What in sam hill…?" he muttered. "Why, this is the continuation of the victim's diary!"

"Note the torn edge of the page," Mr. Wright said. "It's a perfect match with the torn remains of the last page in Magnifi's diary!"

"Quite… remarkable…" Uncle Valant gasped. My eyes were huge. I know Dad didn't killed Grandfather… but Uncle Valant did…?

"Would you care to explain what all this means, Herr Attorney?" Mr. Gavin asked.

"The diary continued after his first visitor came. Which means that the victim was still alive after Zak Gramarye left! Leaving no one to take his life but the second visitor!" Mr. Wright slammed on the bench before pointing at the man on the witness stand. "Valant Gramarye!"

"No…" Uncle Valant gasped, before jerking back. "Noooo…!"

"The handwriting, too, matches that on the other pages. This is, without a doubt, the genuine article!" the judge mused, still studying the evidence. Tears welled into my eyes.

Uncle Valant…? A killer? That can't be right! He'd never take another life, even if Grandfather tortured him and Dad… right?

"But, but wait! This is… that's impossible! That old man couldn't have written that…" Uncle Valant stuttered.

" _Objection!_ " Mr. Gaven yelled, slamming his fist into the wall behind him. "…Finally," he said after a heavy pause. "You just couldn't resist, could you, Herr Wright?"

"…Resist what? Presenting solid evidence?" Mr. Wright asked. The sick feeling I've had all day grew worse. Mr. Gavin didn't answer, instead turning towards the judge.

"Herr Judge?" he said.

"Y-yes, Prosecutor Gavin?" the judge asked.

"Might I request we put the current cross-examination on hold? The prosecution would like to call a new witness."

"B-but, Prosecutor Gavin!" the judge gasped. Obviously, that was a very unusual request. "This evidence overturns the current witness's…"

"I ask only to put it on hold!" Mr. Gavin said, interrupting the judge. "Please. My new witness has a very, very important piece of testimony to give. Five minutes, no more. I promise… You Honor," the man pleaded.

"W-well, if you put it that way…" the judge said. "Mr. Wright, what's your take on this?"

"Well, your honor, judging by his enthusiasm, we'll have to hear this new testimony sooner or later anyways. So it might as well be sooner," he said after a moment's hesitation.

"Then, though this is highly, highly irregular… we will put this current cross-examination on hold. The witness may step down," the judge announced. Uncle Valant stepped down. "…Now, Prosecutor Gavin! Please bring this surprise witness to the courtroom!"

The next thing Mr. Gavin requested was for the courtroom to be emptied, except for the judge, himself, Mr. Wright, and this new witness. The sick feeling grew worse, and before I knew it, I was standing out in the lobby with the rest of the audience. With a sigh, I decided to look around for Trucy.

However, I was unable to find her before we were called back into the courtroom.

The entire atmosphere had changed. Mr. Wright seemed as though a huge burden had been thrown onto his shoulders, one he couldn't shake. Dad was lead to the stand.

"Though I deeply regret having to declare a verdict in this way… This trial is over," the judge began.

"What!?" I gasped, wondering what the special witness had said to result in this. Dad stayed silent and confident.

"You have the right to find a new attorney and make an appeal," the judge said to him. "However, this court must…"

"Ah, Your Honor?" Dad interrupted him.

"Y-yes, Mr. Zak?" he asked.

"There is one thing I wish to make clear. Today, in this courtroom… you cannot declare me 'guilty.' It is impossible."

 _This again!?_

The judge shook his head at that. "I'm afraid the defendant is quite mistaken," he said. "I most certainly have the authority to declare a verdict on you."

"Except… tell me, how do you plan on announcing your verdict… when your defendant does not exist?"

"'Doesn't exist'…? What are you talking about?" the Judge demanded.

"Wait… no!" I gasped, jumping to my feet, realizing the answer to that, seconds before Dad revealed it.

"I am talking… about this!" Dad dropped a flash pellet, making light burst into the courtroom and temporarily blind everyone. I stumbled into someone next to me as I tried to reach the door. Once everyone could see, Dad was gone. I darted to the door, throwing it open, and ran towards the entrance of the courthouse, hoping to catch up to him.

 _What is he doing!? What about me and Trucy!? Why? Why!? WHY!?_

Activity was happening all around me, and just ahead, I thought I caught a glimpse of pink cloak, but I wasn't fast enough. The Bailiffs closed all entrances to the courthouse just as I reached the front doors, and wouldn't let me out.

Dad… no, _Zak_ wasn't found, though Trucy was, in one of the lobbies. _Zak_ had abandoned us, knowing we had no where to go.

 _Zak_ was gone.

As soon as we were allowed to leave, Trucy and I were gone too.

…

 **A/N:** Long chapter is long… Apollo doesn't change this one at all. It was mainly his reactions to it. Future trials, he will change though.

Three guesses as to who the girl he met is! And yes, I ship Apollo with her.


	8. A New Home

**A/N:** Here we go with the next chapter!

Again, no time jump here!

…

Chapter Eight: A New Home

My head pulsed through my temples as I plastered a huge grin on my face, doing a sweeping bow. "Thank you! I'll be here all week!" I announced to the thunderous applause of the Wonder Bar patrons.

 _And probably forever…_ I thought, hopping off the stage and threading my way towards the bar. Mr. Winks, the bartender smiled at me as I sat, placing a glass of soda in front of me.

"I tell ya' 'Pollo, ever since you and your sister showed up two weeks ago, we have never been so busy!" he said. I smiled weakly at him, sipping the soda.

"Speaking of my sister, where is she?"

"Oh, the missus took her upstairs. The poor thing was starting to fall asleep," he replied. I nodded, rubbing my head, fatigue settling over me. "You look exhausted, 'Pollo. Maybe you should go get some sleep too."

"No, I'm fine," I said with a smile, taking another sip. _Won't help anyway. I can't sleep, with trying to figure out what to do. We can't stay here forever… Trucy can't stay here forever..._ I rested my head on my arms, trying to figure out what to do. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Apollo?" a very familiar voice said. I looked up and over my shoulder. It was Mr. Wright.

All the anger I felt towards Zak's disappearance suddenly exploded towards this man who was partially responsible for Zak's disappearance. I surged to my feet, my headache and fatigue forgotten, and punched the defense attorney right across his face. A few gasps came from the surrounding people, and Mr. Winks immediately stood to attention.

"You got some beef with this guy, 'Pollo?" he asked. Mr. Wright stood up straight from his bent over position, rubbing his jaw. I vaguely felt some throbbing in my right fist.

"He's the defense attorney who defended Zak," I said. When I first came here, and asked for employment, I told Mr. and Mrs. Winks our situation, so he knew exactly what I was talking about.

"Ex-Defense Attorney," Mr. Wright corrected, and I detected a note of sadness in his voice. "Look, Apollo, I had no idea your dad—"

"He's not my dad," I snarled, sitting again. Mr. Wright sighed.

"I had no idea Zak was going to do that, or else I never would have defended him. That trial cost me my badge," he admitted. I studied him. In the last few weeks, even before Grandfather's death and Zak's disappearance, I had noticed that I was able to tell when someone was lying. A small twitch, some unconcious tell, would tell me everything, and wearing Mom's bracelet made that perceive ability stronger. That's how I knew Grandfather had been lying when he said Mom was dead.

But now, I wasn't reading anything off of Mr. Wright. My shoulder's slumped, the anger draining, and my headache and exhaustion announced itself once more. With a soft sigh, I rubbed my temples.

"What do you want, Mr. Wright?" I asked tiredly.

"Tomorrow, can you and Trucy come by the office? I have something I want to talk to the two of you about," he said.

"The Wright and Co. Law Offices?" I asked. "But if you're not practicing law anymore…"

"I just haven't changed the name yet. Honestly, I'm not sure how much longer I'm going to keep it," he said with a sigh. "Please? Around ten?"

I hesitated a moment longer before relenting.

"Alright. We'll be there," I said. "And… sorry about your face."

"It's fine, Apollo. No worries," he said with a smile, patting my shoulder before leaving. I sighed and returned to my seat at the bar.

"You sure about this, 'Pollo?" Mr. Winks asked. I nodded.

"Yeah. After all, what do I have to loose?"

…

Since Zak's disappearance, Trucy has been quiet, despite my best efforts to cheer her up. I knew she could sense my anger… and hatred… towards the man I used to call 'Dad,' and she was too young to understand we were abandoned. I was scared that she'd start hating me.

This was how she was when we entered the Wright and Co. Law Offices the next morning. An uncomfortable silence filled the air, until Mr. Wright sighed.

"Trucy, Apollo, there's something we need to talk about," he started. Neither of us answered, and Mr. Wright sighed again. "It's been two weeks since…" he glanced at me, "since Zak Gramarye… disappeared. We need to start thinking about… your future."

My head began to throb again as that problem was once more thrown in my face. I didn't really care about what happened to me, but Trucy… Trucy couldn't live at the Wonder Bar forever.

"I um… did some calling around. This is hard to say, but…"

"But we have no living relatives. I know. I've already tried that," I said. Mr. Wright looked at me.

"What about your biological father, Apollo? Does he have any family left?"

"No clue," I said with a shrug. "He died when I was a baby, and Grandfather never really let Mom talk about him." I crossed my arms, glaring at the floor, until I felt a small hand grip my cape. I looked down, my features softening. Trucy never looked up from the floor, but she was gripping my cape tightly, and I couldn't help but feel bad.

"Ahem… right," Mr. Wright muttered, obviously uncomfortable. "So…" he adjusted his tie. "I was wondering… if you wanted to stay with me for a while," he offered. "Just until your daddy," he hesitated, looking at me. "Um… Zak, comes home. It won't be long." His fingers that were on his tie twitched towards his left lapel, where his attorney's badge used to sit. My bracelet squeezed.

 _Liar. You have no clue, but you highly doubt it,_ I thought bitterly. That had been a tell.

"Uh, of course, it's totally your choice. If you don't like it here, you can go wherever you'd like. I could look up some placed you might like to stay at…" he said. I closed my eyes, knowing I should say no. Knowing I should say we'd be fine.

But the words stuck in my throat.

"…Mr. Attorney. Daddy told me about you," Trucy said softly, and I looked down at her in surprise.

Great, another thing dear ol' Dad didn't tell me.

 _Asshole._

"He said Polly and I could trust you." Trucy looked up… and _smiled_. She actually smiled for this man, who was a virtual stranger, when I couldn't come close in the last two weeks.

"Huh…?" Mr. Wright asked, looking between the two of us. I shrugged.

"He didn't breath a single word of this to me," I said, crossing my arms again. Mr. Wright sighed softly, before looking back at Trucy. "Really?"

"So, if we stay here," she began, crossing her arms. "Does that mean you'll be our family?"

"Huh? Uh… um… I guess so?" the man stammered. I ground my teeth together.

 _That's the last thing I need. More family,_ I thought bitterly… until I looked at the smile on Trucy's face again. _She'd be happy here. It'd be a lot more stable then a bar, too._

My temples throbbed again, and I could feel sweat on the back of my neck. I reached back, wiping it off with a sigh.

"Um… Mr. Attorney?" Trucy asked.

"Er, actually, why don't you call me… Nick," the man offered with a smile. He then looked thoughtful. "Or you can call me 'Daddy' if you'd like. It doesn't have to be today, or anything."

"Okay!" Trucy chirped. "Say, Daddy?"

 _That was fast!_ I thought, glancing down at Trucy. To me, he'd still be Nick for a while.

I pulled my cape tighter around me. I had the chills, all of a sudden. The sweat on my neck certainly didn't help.

"Yes?" Nick asked.

"If we move here, we have to switch schools, right?" she asked.

"We were home schooled, remember?" I said. Trucy huffed at me, making a shushing sound. I sighed, going back to rubbing my throbbing temples, only half listening as Trucy made plans for turning the office into a talent agency and redecorating. She even expected me and her to support Nick, which I'm sure wasn't what he had in mind.

Suddenly, the room spun, and next thing I knew, I was on the ground, Nick supporting my head and neck. Trucy was peering at me from above.

"Ugh…" I moaned. _Why does my body ache, all of a sudden?_

"Apollo? Man, you're burning up," he said, his hand covering my forehead. "Have you been sleeping?"

"No, he hasn't," Trucy said. "Or really eating what he should be, for that matter. He's just been work work work since we got to the Wonder Bar," she huffed.

"Weren't they feeding you?" Nick demanded, sounding angry.

"Of course they were, Daddy!" Trucy said, sounding surprised. "Polly just never touched his food. I think he's still upset…" she said, looking down.

"And he worked himself right into a fever. Probably the flu," Nick looked back down at me, and smiled. "Don't worry, I'm going to take good care of you two now, okay?"

I looked between the Nick and Trucy, realizing that I didn't have a choice in the matter anymore. It was up to Trucy, really, and she wanted to stay. I wearily nodded, even if doubt wormed its way into my mind.

…

 **A/N:** At fifteen (or any age), working that hard and that much stress can lead to not eating or sleeping properly, which can lead to a weaker immune system, which can lead to illnesses, such as the flu. Apollo's in the early stages here, but no worries! Papa Phoenix will take care of him! Even… if Apollo doesn't trust him to not disappear…


	9. A New Life

**A/N:** Here's another chapter! Things will finally start looking up for Polly, promise!

I know in the anime, Phoenix lives in a house, but I've always imagined him in an apartment building due to money issues…

No time jump here.

…

Chapter Nine: A New Life

Despite his hardships, Nick took good care of me and made sure I got the medicine I needed. It was the flu, so he and Trucy forced me into bed rest.

There were times I'd wake up in the middle of the night to Nick replacing the wet rag on my forehead, or covering me back up when I kicked off the blankets.

No one had done all of this for me since… Mom.

After about a week, though, I was tired of being a burden. I carefully stood, pulling a blanket around me to fend off the chills, and wondered into the kitchen. I wasn't fully recovered, but the body aches, and my headache, were gone.

Nick was at the stove, going between pancakes and a pot of soup, while Trucy sat at the table, swinging her legs, when I entered.

"Polly! What are you doing up?" Trucy demanded. I smiled, moving over to the table and sat next to her.

"I was going nuts, just laying in bed," I replied, wrapping an arm around her.

"But you're supposed to be in bed!" he yelled at me, and I jerked back in surprise. Her big, brown eyes were full of tears. "You need sleep, and rest, and… and…"

"Whoa, whoa, Truce, where is this coming from?" I asked, full of concern.

"You big jerk! You weren't eating or sleeping and you made yourself sick!" she yelled, punching my arm.

"Ow! H-hey, Trucy…" I said, catching her hand after she punched my arm a few more times. She looked up at me, tears now streaming down her face, and suddenly, I felt like a terrible big brother.

"Oh, Trucy, I'm sorry," I said, wrapping my arms around her in a tight hug. "I didn't mean to make you worry…"

"Well I did!" she grumbled into my nightshirt, which Nick had given me the night I had collapsed in his office. I stayed silent, comforting her, unsure of what else to do.

Finally, Nick came over, placing a bowl of broth in front of me, and a plate of… something in front of Trucy. Were they supposed to be pancakes? They didn't quite look like pancakes…

"Hey, breakfast is ready," I said, gently pulling back. "And I've rested a lot, so how about I eat now?" I hoped this would make her feel better, which it did. She smiled brightly at me.

"Okay." She turned to her plate, giggling at the 'pancakes,' before digging in. I turned to my broth as well, sipping it.

"Well, Apollo, I think after a few more days, you should be ready to start school," Phoenix said, sipping his coffee. I looked up in surprise.

"School?" I asked, before realizing he wasn't eating. "Are you not hungry?" I asked. He smiled.

"Nope. I'll be fine until lunch," he replied. His throat constricted slightly, like he was swallowing, and my bracelet constricted around my wrist.

He was lying. Was there not enough food in the house? And he was… putting us before himself…

Trucy tugged on my blanket, and I realized she saw it too.

"Will you look at the time," Nick suddenly said. "We have to get you to school, little miss!"

Trucy shoved the rest of her pancakes into her mouth and hopped down, grabbing a book bag and hugging me before darting away. Nick went with her, and was gone a few minutes before coming back.

"Nick…?" I said, looking up at him.

"Hm?" he asked as he collected his mug and Trucy's plate, taking them over to the sink.

"Thank you… for taking care of me and my sister," I said. Nick smiled over his shoulder.

"No worries."

"I just… knowing you lost your job… let me help. Once I get better, rather then going to school, let me continue performing, so I can help pay for things too."

"Apollo, there's no need—"

"I know you're hungry too, Nick. When you said you'd be good, your throat constricted, meaning you were swallowing. That was an unconscious tell, one that proved you were lying," I blurted out.

 _Besides, maybe if I help around here, you wont get fed up with us and abandon us too._

Nick lowered the plate he was washing and turned to face me.

"So, you can do it too…" he muttered.

"Huh?"

"Trucy's already caught me on a few things." He shook his head. "Apollo, I don't mind if you continue to perform at the Wonder Bar, but you need school too if you're ever going to do anything with your life," he said, in a slightly stern voice.

"What do you mean? I want to be a magician," the said automatically, sipping my broth again. Nick glanced back at me, and I swear, for a moment, his eyes flashed green.

"Now who's lying?" he asked.

"Hm?"

"Trucy said you didn't like performing on stage." He turned back to the dishes. "That your preferred close contact magic. Also… I can see when a person is hiding a secret. Which you are, Apollo," he said, finishing and coming over, sitting across from me. I realized his eyes were green again, and my eyes dropped.

Magic is in my blood. My Grandfather and Mother were magicians, and although I'm not entirely sure, I'd bet my dad – my _biological_ dad – was too. But… he's right. I hated being on stage. I sighed softly, my shoulders slumping.

"I don't know what to do, anymore," I admitted, staring into what was left of my broth. Phoenix smiled slightly, his eyes returning to normal.

"I know. And that, kiddo, is why you have to go to school," he said, standing. I scowled at the nickname, looking up at him.

"Don't call me that. And fine, I'll go," I sighed. Nick looked back at me with a sad smile.

"Alright. Oh. I adopted you and Trucy, while you were still out of it. Both… you and I know there's a very slim chance of Zak coming back," he admitted.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"It means… you last name changed. Instead of Apollo Enigmar, you're now Apollo Wright.

…

Gramaryes didn't go to school. They were homeschooled with private tutors. After all, Grandfather didn't want us mixing with 'the muggle folk,' as I so endearingly called them.

So, after another week, where I made a full recovery, I went to school for the first time. I was already in tenth grade, meaning I would be in the high school, and had to wear an uncomfortable uniform. I felt almost naked without my cape, gloves, and hat.

"I thought a private school would be better for you and Trucy," Nick said as he stood at the bus stop with us. Trucy was in between us, holding both of our hands. "Because of being homeschooled, and how famous you are, Apollo."

"A Private School? Those cost money. How are you affording this?" I asked, now very well acquainted with his financial issued.

"A friend is helping me out," Nick admitted. Just then, the bus pulled up, and Trucy and I climbed on.

"Remember, the 5th and Ruthford stop coming home! You two can just meet me at the office!" he called as the bus started pulling away. I waved to show him I understood, and quickly found a seat, pulling Trucy into my lap.

"Polly?" she asked.

"Hm?"

"Why don't you call him 'Daddy?'" she asked, tipping her head back to look at me. I sighed, resting my chin on top of her head.

"Because, Trucy. I…" What do I say here?

 _Every Daddy I've had has disappeared?_

 _I don't trust him to not abandon us?_

 _I'm bitter?_

"It just… doesn't feel right," I finally settled on.

"Oh. Okay. Do you think you'll ever call him 'Daddy?'" she asked. I shrugged.

"I really don't know, Trucy. Maybe." I cast around for a different topic. "Hey, why don't you tell me about the friends you've made so far?"

"Well, there's this one girl, named Jinxie," she said thoughtfully, and for the rest of the ride, I got to hear about this… frankly creepy girl. I almost wondered if going to this school was a good idea for Trucy.

…

"Room 32B… 32B…" I muttered to myself, glancing between my new schedule, a map of the school, and the numbers of the doors I was passing, trying to avoid running into the other students.

"Hey, are you lost?" someone from behind me asked. I looked over to see a boy my age, with messy black hair, barely tamed by a visor, dark brown eyes, and a band-aid over his nose.

"Sorta," I said with a chuckled, rubbing the top of my head with a blush. The boy chuckled, taking my schedule.

"Hrm… let's see here… Oh! You're in my next class, Astronomy in 32B!" he said excitedly. I smiled at that.

"Really?"

"Yeah, come on," he said, grabbing my wrist and dragging me along behind him.

"Whoa!" I gasped, stumbling slightly. "You sure seem excited. This your favorite class?" I asked, jugging simply to keep my balance. Clay looked back at me with an infectious grin and a wink.

"Yep! It's only the best class here!" he declared, pulling me into the classroom and over to a pair of open seats, one right behind the other. The teacher looked up at our entrance and shook her head.

I sat in the one behind the boy and leaned forward, offering my hand.

"I'm Apollo, by the way."

"Clay," he replied, shaking my hand with a grin. "Hey, cool bracelet."

"Thanks, my mom gave it to me," I said, touching the metal band. It was like flicking a switch. Clay's eyes grew a little darker, and he turned back to his desk.

"Right…"

My shoulders slumped, and I couldn't help but wonder what I said wrong. I knew, however, that I wanted to make it right.

I forgot my deck of cards at home, but that wasn't the only thing I knew how to do magic with.

"Hey, Clay? Want to see a magic trick?" I asked. Clay turned back to me, confusion in his eyes.

"A magic trick?" he asked. I nodded, pulling a penny and a sharpie out.

"Yeah. Here, draw whatever you want on this," I said, handing both over. Clay took it and drew a star on Lincoln's face before handing both back. I grinned as sat back in my seat, putting the sharpie away. "Alright, now watch, and prepare to be amazed," I said in my best suspense building voice. It worked. Clay was hooked.

With a deep breath, I placed the penny between the tips of my index and middle fingers of my right hand, and flicked it towards the desk surface, where it bounced. While it was still in the air, I snatched it with my left hand, before opening both. The entire process took abut thirty seconds to complete.

"Whoa!" Clay gasped, before looked skeptical. "Wait. It's in your sleeve, isn't it?" he asked. I held both arms towards him.

"You're welcome to check," I offered. He felt along, and even in my sleeves, but found nothing.

"Huh? Where is it?" he asked.

"Check your left shoe."

Looking confused, he reached down and pulled his shoe off. Out fell a penny. Gasping, he picked it up and studied it.

There, on Lincoln's face, was a star, drawn in sharpie.

"WHOA!" he gasped, his eyes bright. A few of the kids around us started clapping, and I blushed to realize I had an impromptu audience.

"That was amazing, Apollo, how—Wait… you're not… the Apollo Gramarye… are you?" Clay asked. I looked away.

"Um… No, not anymore. I'm Apollo Wright," I replied, a note of finality in my voice. Clay hesitated, before nodding.

"Alright. Hey, do you like sci-fi?"

…

Clay I became inseparable after that in school. He'd even invite me over once or twice a week, and we'd binge watch all of the old science fiction movies and tv shows he had on DVD.

I became hooked on sci-fi, and soon we were making stupid references like a couple of geeks.

It wasn't until a few weeks after I'd met him, however, that I found out why the mention of my mother had bummed him out so much. The first time I had went to the Terran residence, I had only met Mr. Terran. I sort of assumed Mrs. Terran had left… but that wasn't the case.

Clay came to the Wright residence one day, unannounced. Nick was out at work, while Trucy was staying at a friend's house, so I was the only one home.

"Are you okay?" I asked as I let him in. Clay kind of shrugged, stepping in, and I led him into the small kitchen. With both Nick and me working, we were able to afford enough food, plus pay the bills, so I didn't mind making a cup of tea for the two of us. Clay stared into his cup for a bit, staying quiet.

"Clay…?"

"Apollo, what happened to your mother?" he asked, totally taking me off guard. I sat back in my seat, surprised. "I know Mr. Wright isn't your real dad… that he… disappeared after a trial, but whatever happened to your mom?" he asked, and I didn't even have the energy to tell him he was wrong, that Zak wasn't my dad. Instead, I sighed, putting a hand on my bracelet.

"Mom… well, she was Thalassa Gramarye. She…"

 _Do I tell him that she died?_

 _That she vanished?_

 _That Grandfather made her disappear?_

"There was an accident during training… and she's gone," I settled on, before taking a sip of my tea.

"I'm so sorry," Clay muttered. I shook my head, the anger that never went away boiling under my skin. I tried to push it back, and turned my attention back on my friend.

"What's wrong, Clay? I'm sure you didn't come just to learn more about me," I said. Clay gripped his mug.

"Dad and I… got into a fight. He's been so cold since… since Mom died…" his eyes welled with tears. "If I even mention her, he gets so nasty and upset, and I just… no one understands what it's like, to have your mother suddenly ripped from you, and you'd think he'd be understanding, right? 'Cause that was his wife! But no! I haven't even been able to really mourn her because… because of him, and—" he cut off when I hugged him tightly, surprised. I rubbed his back.

"I understand, Clay, believe me. Go ahead, you can let it out now," I said, rubbing his back. He dissolved into tears against my shoulder, and before I knew it, I was mourning my own mother: something Grandfather never let me do.

I don't know how long we sat there, but finally, I pulled back, and took a deep breath.

"I'M APOLLO WRIGHT, AND I'M FINE!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, facing the wall.

"Apollo?"

"Come on, Clay, you do it too. It'll make you feel better, believe me," I said, looking over at him. He hesitated, before nodding.

"I'm Clay Terran, and I…" he took a deep breath. "AND I'M FINE!" he blinked. "You're right…"

"See? I'M APOLLO WRIGHT, AND I'M FINE!"

"I'M CLAY TERRAN, AND I'M FINE!"

We took turns yelling this until our throats were raw, and we were laughing too hard. I flopped down onto the couch, pulling Clay with me.

"Feeling better?" I asked once I caught my breath.

"Yep!" he said brightly.

"Good! Want to watch _Professor Who?_ I have the next season on dvd!"

"Are you going to pull the disk from your sleeve?"

"Maybe," I smirked.

"Then yes!"

…

Nick came in, probably around three in the morning, to find Clay and I camped out on the couch, five hours in to our marathon. We must have looked crazed, but I didn't care.

I'd never been happier before in my life.

…

"Here, Trucy. _This_ is what pancakes are supposed to look like," I said, placing a plate in front of my bouncing sister. She grew still, studying them.

"They don't have the black edges like Daddy's," she said. I chuckled.

"That's a good thing, squirt," I replied. "Taste 'em. I bet you'll like them."

"We'll see," she huffed, taking a big bite. Her eyes widened slightly.

"See?" I said once she swallowed.

"I like Daddy's more," she huffed, but I noticed her eyebrow twitch.

"Morning, kiddos," Nick said as he walked in, a big, blue bin in his hands.

"What's that?" I asked, plopping a few pancakes onto two more plates, one for me, the other for him.

"Old case fi—Apollo, what are you doing?" he asked.

"Cooking. Old case whats?"

"Files. Where'd you learn to cook?" he asked, peering at the plate I set at his seat.

"The internet. Why are you bringing those here?"

"Oh, great. Well, you might want to make more. We're going to have company. And I did so to clean out the office. If we're going to be a talent agency now, our bookshelves need space for the talent," he said.

"Nick. There's three of us. I'm sure there was more then enough space," I said, making more batter. "Who's the company?"

"And old friend."

"Oh!" Trucy perked. "The one who keeps sending you the little kids shows?" she asked.

"The very same." There was a knock on the door. "That'll be her now. I've got it," he walked out. I finished these pancakes, pulling a fourth plate down, and set it at the spare chair, listening to Nick and our guest talk in the hallway.

A few minutes later, a woman with long, black hair and a kind face followed Nick in.

"Oooh! I thought I smelled pancakes!" she squealed, taking the spare seat. "And they're not burnt!"

"Trucy, Apollo, this is Maya. Maya, these are my… my adopted kids. Trucy and Apollo. 'Pollo's the one who made the pancakes," he said. Trucy brightened up.

"Hi, Miss. Maya! Do you want to see a magic trick?" she asked, reaching behind her back. Nick placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You can show her _him_ later," he said, before taking his seat. I filled the sink and let the pans soak before sitting as well. Maya and Nick talked about all kinds of things, like spirit channelings and the such, while I kept Trucy entertained by making faces at her.

Finally, Maya looked over at me. "Hey Polly?"

 _Her too!?_ "Yes?"

"Mind helping me get something from downstairs?" she asked.

"You drove?"

"No, we left it in the lobby of the building, since the elevator's out," Nick explained.

"Ah. Oh, uh, sure. Why not?" I stood, taking my plate to the sink, before following the woman out.

"So, what do you think of Nick?" she asked once we were out of earshot of the apartment.

"Well, Trucy seems to really like him. Maybe even love him," I mused.

"Ah, ah. You're avoiding the question," she said with a smile. I looked over at her, and sighed.

"I'm having a hard time trusting him… as a father," I admitted, before realizing why. That's when I noticed her eyes, and the weird charm around her neck, glowing green. "You can do it too, can't you? See when someone's hiding secrets in their heart."

"Yes. It's a spiritual power, after all," she said with a huge grin, slinging an arm around me. "But seriously Apollo, is this because of Zak? If so, I can assure you, Nick would never abandon you and Trucy like that. It's just not in his nature."

"Really?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow. Maya seemed thoughtful for a moment, before nodding.

"Nick is like a mule. Stubborn until the end. Take Mr. Edgeworth for instance. He and Nick were friends when they were kids, and suddenly, Edgeworth moves away. Nick never stopped thinking about him, until one day, he reappeared, but this time as a prosecutor. The Demon of Prosecutors, actually. You know, Nick actually became a defense attorney, just to see him again, and ask what happened? He thought about his friend for _fifteen years_ , Apollo."

"Whoa, really?"

"Really. And that was just his friend. Now, imagine how much that determination would intensify when it came to his _kids_."

"He doesn't see us as his kids," I muttered, looking around once we reached the lobby.

"Yes, he does," Maya said seriously, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Apollo, he cares about you and your sister. A lot. Loves you, even. Just… give him a chance."

"Well… alright," I said with a sigh. Maya grinned, before pointing at the box.

"There it is! A new shipment of shows for Nick to watch!"

…

Keeping Maya's words in mind, I decided to look into Nick a little more myself. He left the bin in the corner of the living room, so when no one was home, or awake, I would take to studying his old case files.

They were amazing. The amount of dedication Nick would show towards his clients and friends… right to the point of facing mobs, getting tasered, _falling into Eagle River_ … Maya was right. Nick was a mule.

And inspirational mule. I could just imagine, at the end of the day, the elation he would feel at getting the innocent people off, and seeing the guilty behind bars. The rush that must have come with each objection, each piece of evidence presented… everything. Just reading the transcripts gave me a rush.

By the end of the week, I realized that maybe going to school was a good idea.

After all, I would need an education to become a Defense Attorney.

…

 **A/N:** Tada! This chapter… was originally supposed to be the second part of the last chapter. I'm glad I split them up.

Apollo's finally finding happiness! And an idol! YAY! And he and Clay are such close buds now… hehe.

There's no shipping there, by the way. Just best buddy-ness.

Well, until next time! TA!


	10. A New Life pt 2, College

**A/N:** Here we go with another chapter! I forgot to add a part in the last chapter, so I have to put it in the beginning of this one, meaning this chapter will be split into two parts. Sorry!

 **Review Reply to Gamergirl:** I've always imagine Clay and Apollo marathoning old sci-fi shows and movies, especially with all of the references Apollo makes in his game and DD, haha. And yep! His new Daddy inspired him, hehe. I love Maya.

Alright, here's the first part of this chapter! There is no time jump between the last chapter and this.

…

Chapter Nine: A New Life (Part Two)

The next few months saw me continuing to perform at the Wonder Bar, about twice a week. On my days off, I would either hang out with Clay, who began taking me to the Cosmos Space Station (he wanted to be an Astronaut. Go figure), or hanging out with Nick and Trucy.

…

"-ollo. Apollo," a voice called, a hand on my back giving me a gentle shake. I buried my head deeper into my arms with a soft groan.

"No…" I muttered, only to receive a chuckle in response.

"Apollo, I can't carry you, and you really shouldn't sleep at the desk."

I finally lifted my head and blinked a few times, looking around. I was sitting in the living room, at the desk, where the dinosaur computer was. On the screen was a series of newspaper articles. Finally, I turned to the person shaking me awake.

"Daaaad," I groaned, rubbing my eye. "I was fi—" I cut off as Nick hugged me tightly.

"Um…"

"That's the first time you called me 'Dad'," he said.

"Really? Oh… I guess it was," I mumbled. And… that's how I felt. Since learning about his determination and drive for his clients and especially his friends, I've come to admire him. Even trust him… and love him.

Like a father.

"So, what are you looking at?" he asked, looking at the computer screen.

"Oh, uh…" I quickly tried to close out of the webpage, but he caught my hand on the mouse.

"'Zak Gramarye'?" He clicked through the pages. "'Thalassa Gramarye'?" Another page. "'Justice 2004'. Apollo… are you researching your family?" Dad asked. I fiddled with one my spikes.

"More like… investigating…" I admitted. With a sigh, I dropped my hand. "I… need to know a few things."

"Such as?" Dad asked curiously, crouching next to the desk chair to be on the same level as me.

"Well, one, where the hell did Zak go?' I started, ticking them off on my fingers. "More about my biological father. Grandfather never really let Mom talk about him. And finally… what happened to Mom."

"Apollo… Thalassa Gramarye died in an accident," Dad said, his voice gentle. I looked up at him, hesitating slightly, before sighing, shaking my head.

"No, she didn't. Grandfather made it seem that way, but… that same day, I overheard Grandfather saying he would cover it up and send her away." I put a hand to my cheek, that backhand still stinging slightly when I thought of it, even years later. "I… I confronted him the night he died." I dropped my eyes to my lap, unable to meet his.

"You… did?"

"Yes. And when he said 'Thalassa Gramarye is dead'… his eye twitched. It was an unconscious tell, which meant he was _lying_. Our Mom is still alive. I just… don't know where."

"Wow…" Dad seemed speechless for a moment, before I felt his arm drape around my shoulders.

"Well, going this way, you're probably not going to find much," he said. I chuckled weakly.

"Probably not. It's such broad search terms, and I'm not good with computers," I admitted, making Dad laugh more.

"I'll talk to a few of my connections. Maybe they can look into it, okay?" he offered. I nodded, watching as he closed the web pages. "Now you should get some sleep, young man," he said in a mock, stern voice.

"Yes, Dad," I said with a grin, standing and heading towards my room. I stopped at the door. "Goodnight, Dad. I… I love you," I said with a smile. He looked surprised for a moment, before smiling warmly back.

"G'night, kiddo. I love you too."

…

 **A/N:** Alright, here's the end of the last chapter! Below is the next chapter! Here we go! This one jumps forward three years, so Apollo is 18, Trucy is 11.

…

Chapter Ten: College

 _Three Years Later_

"Are you sure about this, Apollo? You know Ivy University isn't that far away. You could just commute," Dad said as I carried my last bin to Clay's car. I laughed.

"Dad! I don't have a car. How can I commute? Besides, by living on campus, that'll free up some of the financial burdens on you and Trucy. Plus, I paid the deposit for it _months_ ago," I said.

"Don't talk my roomy out of living on campus!" Clay protested, slinging an arm around my shoulders, and we both laughed.

"Say cheese!" Trucy said, getting a photo before either of us could react. I just laughed more, until Trucy pouted at me.

"Polly, you're not wearing your cape or hat," she said. I looked down at the red jacket with the white shirt underneath that I was wearing, paired with a pair of jeans and sneakers.

"Yeah, 'Polly,' where are they?" Clay asked teasingly, quirking an eyebrow at me.

"They're packed. Geez." I patted the bin I had just carried out. _Besides, I don't want to stand out like a freak my first day on campus…_

Dad sighed, holding up a bag with a Mr. Hat charm hanging on it. "Don't forget your bag," he said. I took it, studying the charm.

"This is new…"

"I made it for your!" Trucy said with bright eyes. "Do you like it?"

"I love it," I said with a smile, putting the bag in the car as well and hugging Trucy tightly. "Thanks, Squirt."

"I'm not a Squirt!"

"Well, I guess that's everything," I said, glancing back at the car. Dad hugged me tightly.

"Guess so. You'll visit?"

"Of course."

"And we can visit?"

"Yes, Dad."

"You'll be good? And careful?"

A groan from me. "Yes, Dad."

"Good. Stay away from girls you meet in the Courthouse Library. And the Pharmaceutical building."

"Huh?"

"Nothing," he said, flashing me a grin as he released me. I looked at him curiously, but he didn't say anything more, so I shrugged, waving to him and Trucy as I climbed into the car.

…

Ivy University wasn't that far from home, but with Los Angeles traffic, the ride took about an hour. In that hour, Clay and I discussed theories for the newest season of _Professor Who_ and what the next _Galaxy Wars_ movie might be about. We then belted out songs we knew that came on the radio, acting like total dorks, until finally, we reached the school.

Ivy U was huge. There were older students everywhere, directing the flow of traffic towards the correct dorms, and that took another half hour before we finally reached North Hall, our dorm building.

"And so, it begins," Clay said as he parked the car. I grinned back.

"Let's make it count."

…

The movies and all weren't lying when they said that college girls were better then high school girls. Honestly, I never got a date back in high school, so Clay made it his personal mission to get me one in our freshman year.

It was almost amusing.

"Come on, Apollo, you can at least try. She's cute, right?" Clay said. A few moments ago, he had invited two girls over to eat lunch with us in the dinning hall, having a huge crush on the one. We were now in line for food, the girls having gone to the salad bar.

"Well, yeah, but still. I don't know," I muttered.

"Pooooooolly…" he whined, prompting a groan from me.

"Clay, she didn't even seem remotely interested in me," I replied.

"That's because you sat there like a lump on a log. Woo her, dude! Come on, please? I want to go on a double date! And if you're alone, then it's just a plain ol' date with an awkward third wheel."

"That poetic. Who is that, Shakespeare?" I asked, earning a punch in the arm.

"Please, Apollo?"

"Alright, alright, fine, I'll… 'woo' her," I said. Clay grinned

"Good!"

When we returned to the table, the girls were already there. One of them smiled warmly at Clay, while the other stayed interested in her plate of lettuce.

"Hey. Name's Apollo. You?" I said, trying to act smooth.

"Jennifer," she said. I nodded.

 _Cool. One word answers. Now what?_

I started to fall quiet, unsure of where to go, when I felt Clay's foot hit my leg, causing me to jump slightly and give him a dirty look. He didn't even look at me, and I sighed softly, looking back at Jennifer. Time to do the one thing I know best.

"Hey Jennifer. Want to see a magic trick?"

Next thing I knew, ice water was thrown in my face.

…

I wearily eyed the house we were walking towards. It was clearly student housing, as run down as it was, and there was flashing lights from every window, coupled with pounding music.

"Now this is a party," Clay said with a grin, Sarah, his girlfriend on his arm. I smiled weakly at him before looking over at my own girlfriend, Jennifer. Once she realized I was serious, and not making a dirty come on, we hit it off pretty good.

"Hopefully it doesn't get busted," Sarah mused.

"Yeah. That would be kind of bad for your law career," Jennifer agreed, looking at me, laughter in her voice.

"And probably my life, where Dad's concerned," I added, walking in.

The party, thrown by one of the fraternities on campus, was wild. There was hardly any room to move between the dancing people, and I could hardly hear myself think of the pounding base of the music.

I could also smell alcohol, which made me a little uneasy, considering the four of us were still eighteen.

"You okay?" Clay shouted in my ear. I turned to his.

"Not sure we should be here!" I yelled back.

"We just won't drink!" Clay replied, giving me a thumbs up with a wink. I hesitated before smiling slightly, nodding. He thumped me on the back, and we waded through the people.

Once I got to dancing, I did start having fun. I was even able to forget about the alcohol… until I saw Sarah and Jennifer with beers. Dread clawed at me as I searched around for Clay, relaxing only when I spotted him talking to a few of his classmates, holding a bottle of water.

I started towards the girls, hoping to stop them before they got drunk or something, when another guy walked over, flirting with Jennifer. Jealousy flared up in me, and I quickly shoved through the people, only to get there just as they kissed.

"HEY!" I yelled, grabbing the guy's arm. It almost felt like holding a grapefruit, and when he pulled back to look at me, I realized it was one of the frat guys.

"You got a problem?" he demanded.

"Y-yes," I said. "You're making out with my girlfriend!"

"Oh really?" he smirked at me. "And what's a runt like you going to do about it?"

"Nothing, he's going to do nothing," Clay was suddenly at my side, holding my wrist tightly before I could punch the guy. "Apollo, come on, lets just leave," he said, pulling me through the crowd. I seethed, but let him do so.

"Why'd you do that?" I demanded once we were down the street from the frat house.

"Because she wasn't worth you getting beat to a pulp. Was she?" he asked. I sighed.

"No. But her doing that still hurts…"

"I know," Clay said, wrapping an arm around me. "Come on, let's go get ice cream and watch _Universe Trek_."

…

Part of the college experience, I learned the hard way, was playing pranks. I had been out late one night, studying in the library. Clay had went back to the dorm room ages before me, and since it was after eleven, I couldn't help but wonder if he was asleep.

I carefully unlocked the door and peeked in. It was dark, and there was a lump on Clay's bed. Smiling, I came further in placed my stuff on the bed, deciding to get a drink before getting ready to go to sleep myself.

In the mini-fridge was a pitcher of orange juice that I made earlier. Pulling it out, I poured a glass and took a huge gulp…

…Only to spit it back out.

"The hell!?" I demanded, looking at the pitcher. It didn't taste at all like orange juice. Instead it was vaguely… cheesy.

The lump that was Clay started shaking, and I realized he wasn't asleep at all. He was _laughing_.

"Clay!" I yelled, jumping on him.

"GAH!" he yelped, before laughing as I gave him a noogie. Finally, I released him, and he smirked.

"How was your orange juice?" he asked innocently.

"Jerk," I muttered, looking around. In his trashcan, I spotted a box of stove top mac and cheese. The noodles were still there, but the cheese pack was suspiciously empty.

"Ew." I looked over at Clay. "I will get you back for this."

A few days later, I got my revenge. Clay was out, doing group work with a few friends from a class. I was sitting at my desk, reading one of my many law books, headphones in, though not playing music.

Finally, I heard the door open, meaning he had returned. I didn't look up as he spoke, keeping up the impression that I was listening to music.

My eyes had frozen on the page though, as I listened to him move around behind me, until finally, he sat in his desk chair.

 _HOOOOOOOOOOOOONK_

"GAH!" Clay yelled, jumping up. I finally turned, pulling my headphones out.

"Geez, Clay, if you're going to be so loud, maybe I should go to the library," I said innocently, suppressing the grin that wanted to spread across my face at my roommate's face. It was white, with huge eyes, and he was breathing heavily, staring at his desk chair like it was possessed. He looked at me, then at the chair again, and began to inspect it as he calmed down.

The grin finally broke when he saw the source of the loud noise.

I had duct tapped an air horn just below his seat, close enough for his weight to make it go off. He looked up at me as I started laughing.

"Apollo!" he yelled, diving at me.

…

 **A/N:** And the end of this chapter! I wanted to show a few snapshots of college life for the boys. Needless to say, they kept each other on their toes with this little prank war, but were there for each other when it counted!

Apollo's outfit is his DLC from Dual Destinies, by the way.


	11. The Past

**A/N:** Another chapter!

Apollo is 22 here, making Trucy 15.

ONWARD!

…

Chapter Eleven: The Past

 _Four Years Later_

I stared at the paper in front of me, the words swimming slightly due to my nervousness. I was in a large lecture hall, other law hopefuls like myself scribbling away at their papers.

Today was the bar exam. The thing that would determine if I passed or failed.

The test that determined my future.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes.

 _I'M APOLLO WRIGHT, AND I'M FINE!_ I shouted in my head. I had been running late this morning, so I didn't have time to do this before the test. A few more times, and I opened my eyes, feeling a little calmer.

Time to ace this test.

…

"Well!?" Clay demanded as I walked out of the room, surprising me slightly. I shrugged with a grin.

"Eh. I think I did alright. Didn't you have a final today?" I asked. He laughed, slinging an arm around me as we walked down the hall.

"Finished early," he said, waving it away. I chuckled at that, shaking my head.

"Well, alright."

…

"DAD! TRUCY! DAD! TRUCY!" I yelled barreling into the living room, holding the mail. Both looked up in surprise.

"What is it, Apollo?" Dad asked.

"The results are here," I said, looking down at the envelop.

"For the Bar Exam? Well? How'd you do?" Trucy asked. I bit my lip slightly.

"I don't know. I didn't look," I said softly, staring at the envelope.

"Do you want me to open it for you?" Dad asked, his voice half-amused, half-sympathetic. I looked up at him and shook my head, before taking another deep breath and opening it slowly, pulling out the letter.

"Well?" Trucy asked after I stared at the letter for a while. I looked up at them.

"I… passed…"

"YES!" Trucy squealed, tackling me in a hug.

"Don't sound too surprised!" Dad said, laughing. I started laughing as well, relieved.

…

Since I had access to law files now, I continued my investigation into Zak, mainly. His disappearance still really bothered me, for Trucy's sake (who still loved him), and his dropping off the face of the earth just didn't make sense.

I sighed, resting my head against my fist, sitting at my desk in my room, my laptop open in front of me.

"Apollo?" Dad asked, knocking, then entering. I looked up.

"Yeah?"

"I was thinking we could celebrate your new badge, tonight," he said, motioning towards where it was pinned to my lapel. I smiled, brushing my fingers over the small, metal disk. "Trucy has a performance tonight, but you and me can get dinner with a friend at the Borsht Bowl Club."

"A friend?" I asked.

"Kristoph Gavin," he said. I perked up.

"The 'Coolest Defense in the West'?" I asked.

"The very same," he replied. I grinned.

"Okay." I stood, grabbing a hoodie. It was cold in the restaurant Dad worked at, after all…

…

"So, this is the new Wright Attorney," Mr. Gavin said as he walked over to the table Dad and I were at, near the piano. Dad smiled, clasping my shoulder proudly.

"Yep. Just passed his bar exam and everything," he said, giving my shoulder a squeeze. I smiled warmly at that, before offering my hand to Mr. Gavin.

"Apollo Wright. It's nice to meet you, sir," I said.

"The pleasure's mine," he replied, sitting and adjusting his glasses. "I can see you have some of your father's old spark." He glanced over at Dad with a smirk. "And persistence." I chuckled weakly, rubbing the top of my head.

"My teachers said that too," I admitted sheepishly.

"I'm buying him dinner to celebrate passing the Bar Exam," Dad said.

"And you _didn't_ go to Eldoon Noodles?" Mr. Gavin asked, causing Dad to laugh.

"Nope, not tonight."

Just then a waitress came over, taking our order, before heading back to the kitchen. Dad watched after her, a weird look on his face, before turning back to us.

Mr. Gavin asked me all kinds of questions about school, my interests, and the law. I got the feeling he was quizzing me, which was fine. As odd as it sounds, I actually found law _interesting_ , meaning I remembered it. Mr. Gavin, and even Dad, were impressed by my knowledge, and I was having fun.

Finally, though, Mr. Gavin stood.

"I'll be taking my leave, now," he announced. "Still have some work to do back at the office."

"Then I guess it'll just be the two of us," Dad said, glancing over at me with a small smile.

"It was nice meeting you," I added.

"It was nice to meet you as well, Apollo. You have a bright future ahead of you," he said with a warm smile at me. I smiled warmly back, and he headed out. After a few moments, I let out a yawn as well.

"You should head home too, Apollo," Dad said, ruffling my hair. I chuckled, standing.

"You're right. Night, Dad," I said.

"G'night, kiddo," he replied, and I headed towards the door, bumping into someone right in front of it.

"Oof. Sorry," I muttered.

"It's fine," the man replied, stepping around me, a hand on my shoulder to steady me.

I froze.

That touch. _That voice_. I spun on my heel, watching the man, who was wearing a white suit and fedora, walk over to where Dad was taking a swig of grape juice.

He glanced to the side, looking at another man I hadn't noticed before, and I caught sight of his profile.

 _It's him! It's Zak! He's_ here. _What is he doing here!?_ I pulled the hood of my jacket up and quickly moved over to the bar, sitting just within earshot of the group of men.

"Are… they well? Trucy and Apollo, I mean," Zak asked. I seethed.

 _Like you care_ , I thought bitterly.

"They're fine. Apollo just graduated college, and I've got Trucy working already. Hope you don't mind," Dad said, and I could hear an undercurrent of sarcasm in his voice.

"I hardly need express my gratitude. But, you have it," Zak said, looking away from the man who's life he ruined. "This is why I have come. That, and to settle a matter of cards."

"By which you mean poker?" Dad asked. I glanced over again, catching sight of Zak's eyes. He was serious about this game. Those were the most dangerous kind for Dad.

"I despise losing above all else," Zak said with a grin. "And so, I have decided that I will win tonight. No matter what it takes." The look on Dad's face showed that he felt the same way I did about people like Zak.

"Perhaps we should take this time to talk, before we play," Zak suggested. "I know you have much to ask me. And I, you."

The two talked about the first time they met, in the Detention Center seven years ago, when Dad first beat Zak at a game of cards, and how he hired his attorney over a game, a game where one's true nature is shown. Dad himself has told me about that, the few times he had me sit with him at the Hydeout. Trucy and I helped him from time to time when we were younger.

"So Trucy… she's fifteen this year? And Apollo… twenty-two?" Zak asked.

 _At least you got our ages right. Jerk._

"Yes. Trucy's still trying her best to follow in your footsteps, you know. Apollo… not so much," Dad said, sounding a little awkward.

"I… see. When I planned my disappearing act, it was the thought of them alone that gave me pause," Zak admitted.

 _Yet you still did it._

"Wait," Dad said, not sounding too happy. "You were planning on vanishing from the get-go?"

"Yes, and for that, I must apologize."

 _Apology NOT accepted!_

"However…I could not be found guilty that day. Because of this."

From his pocket, he pulled out an old piece of paper, one that was folded and ripped on one edge, like it had been pulled from a notebook.

"This…?" Dad asked.

"A transferal of rights. You see the signature?"

"A transferal…? That's Magnfi Gramarye's signature, isn't it?" Dad asked, looking from the paper, to Zak. He then looked down at it again.

"'I hereby give all rights to the secrets, staging, and performance of my magic… to the recipient named below'," he read. "And the recipient's name… is you… Zak Gramarye."

"Yes, it is I," Zak said.

"Wait… this page looks torn," Dad said, surprise in his voice.

"You recall the diary, yes?" Zak asked. I thought back to the trial seven years ago, almost like he had been asking me. Dad had presented a paper that he said was torn from Grandfather's diary, then Prosecutor Gavin cleared the courtroom. Zak vanished after that, and Dad had been disbarred for presenting false evidence.

Evidence I was positive he didn't realize was false.

Was _this_ the real diary page? If so, Zak ruined his life more then either Dad or I ever realized.

"How could I forget? That scrap of paper lost me my attorney's badge," Dad replied bitterly.

"This is the _real_ page that was torn from the book," Zak admitted, looking away from Dad. "Magnifi gave it to me that night.

Dad was silent for a moment, his face impassive. "You could have told me this earlier. Like, seven years earlier," he said, his voice carefully composed. That was a sure sign that he was seething.

"Once again, I must apologize. It was all I could do to prepare for my escape from that courtroom," Zak said.

 _That isn't enough!_

Zak shook his head. "The greatest of Magnifi Gramarye's illusions are true art," he said. "As such, they are well protected… by this document." He held the paper up. "Only its bearer may perform his illusions on stage. As the rightful heir to his art, I, too, wanted a rightful heir."

"'Rightful'…?" Dad asked.

"I'm sure you know who I chose as my successor," Zak said. I lifted my head slightly, turning it towards the man a little more.

"Your son," Dad said.

"No," Zak said, and I winced at that one word. "I always saw Apollo as my son, but the truth of the matter is that he and I are not blood related."

"You weren't blood related to Magnifi," Dad said.

"We were related lawfully, through marriage. And, at one time, I was lawfully related to Apollo, through adoption. Even that is gone now, now that you've adopted him," Zak explained. I clenched my hands into fists, my eyes swimming with angry tears.

 _Whatever. I don't want the stinking magic anyway. I'm a lawyer now,_ I thought bitterly.

"Your daughter, then?" Dad asked, his voice impassive once more.

"Yes. That is why I have risked all to come here tonight," he said.

The two, along with help from the third man there, did the official signing for the transferal of rights and discussed the law that stated that a missing man would be declared dead after seven years.

That was a law I paid close attention to in school. Zak's time was coming, and Mom…

Well, it's been nearly ten years.

The third man left, his job done, and Zak and Dad talked some more. Zak first explained the Gramarye power to him: the ability to perceive when someone lies. I touched my bracelet, realizing that was what he was talking about. Dad had said Trucy could do it too, but I had never realized that ran in our blood.

Then they talked about the night Grandfather had died. The letters had been a test, set up to decide which of his students would gain the rights to his magic. I shook my head, looking at my hand.

 _If I had shot him that night, neither of them would gain his magic…_

"It seems that before I can once again disappear from this world…" Zak began.

 _WHAT!?_

"…I have one more act to perform."

 _You're leaving us again!?_ I glanced over my shoulder at Dad's face. It was impassive, making it impossible to tell what he was thinking.

"Isn't it odd that sorting out my life should prove so complicated, even though I'm 'dead'?" Zak sighed. My hands clenched into fists at that, a thousand dark thoughts swirling around my head. He wrote something, signed it, and gave it to Dad, before the two headed down into the Hydeout.

"You okay, kid? Want something?" the bartender asked me. I looked up at him, half tempted to ask for whatever was the strongest drink they had.

"A Pepsi. Please," I sighed, handing him a few dollars. I needed to confront Zak before he vanished again, and to do that, I needed a clear head.

Or, at lease, as clear as could be.

Dad and Zak were downstairs for a while, the bar steadily clearing out. Finally, though, Dad came upstairs, talking quickly on his phone. He seemed worried, and kept glancing back at the door.

"Dad?" I called.

Seeming to not hear me, he returned back downstairs. I stood and quickly followed him.

At the door, I froze.

Dad looked up from where he was inspecting Zak, who was sitting in the seat at the head of the table, a pained look on his face.

One look at him, and I could tell Zak was dead. I stumbled back, hitting the wall behind me.

"Apollo!?" he gasped.

"W-what… what…" I shook my head. I was angry, upset, confused… I held my head in my hands, trying to think straight.

"Apollo," Dad said firmly, putting his hands on my shoulders. I looked up at him, and could see the fear and confusion in his eyes too.

"What happened!?" I demanded, finally finding my voice. Normally, I wouldn't think Dad did it. After all, he was the most morally stable person I knew.

But he had motive.

Zak had destroyed his life, after all. Cost him his Attorney's badge, withheld evidence that could have saved himself and Dad…

"He attacked the dealer, so I went upstairs to call the police. When I came back, he was like this," Dad explained. I hesitated, before nodding, wanting desperately to believe him. "I have to make another call, okay?"

"Who?" I asked, my voice soft.

"Kristoph. I believe I'm going to be arrested for this," he said, walking past me. I caught his sleeve.

"Dad, let me defend you," I offered. He stopped, looking back at me in surprise, before smiling warmly.

"If that's what you want. Alright then. I'm still going to call him, and ask him to mentor you through the case though, alright? After all, this will be your first trial."

I gave a small smile and nodded. "Alright. Makes sense," I said, letting him lead me back up the steps.

That when I realized… he probably doesn't know that I know the real identity of the victim.

…

 **A/N:** Dun, dun, duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun! Next chapter will be Turnabout Trump!

This'll be fun, hehe.


	12. AUTHOR'S NOTE

A Note

Hey guys! Please don't hate me for this, ehehehe.

Well, I mentioned a few times how I was applying for a Master's program in creative writing, and guess what! I got in! I got everything for it today, and I start on Monday.

 **What this means for you:**

I know I've built up an expectation of updating my stories nearly daily. That's going to change. I will have a full time job on top classes, so my updates will drop back to weekly (my days off), if possible. Currently, I have two stories going, on separate accounts.

1\. "Flora Reinhold: City of Bronze" on Emeraldwings1992

2\. "Apollo Gramarye" on Wingedemerald1992

I am also assisting PierceTheVeils in writing an "Ace Attorney: Investigations 3" story, due to be posted in July.

I plan to finish "Bronze" tonight after work, since that'll be a short chapter. I'm halfway through the next chapter of "Apollo" now, but those chapters are a _lot_ longer then my normal amount.

The sequel to "Bronze" might wait a little until it's posted, but I will continue to write, no worried!

I also won't go months on end without updating, unless I post a note saying I have to.

Thanks for understanding, guys. You're all awesome!


	13. 12-1: The Wright Anything Agency

**A/N:** Another chapter! This is where the game picks up! Apollo's debut in court! This'll be fun, hehe.

Starting here, I'm going to put the month the chapter happens right under the chapter title. Also, I split this chapter into two, because I was hitting 12,000 words, so… This is the trial former, heh.

 **Review Reply to Guest:** I'm glad you're enjoying it! I know the pacing was fast. I wanted just show snapshots of Apollo's life before the game, but you're probably right. I could have slowed down a few chapters, like the college one. I didn't really think about it while I was writing it, heh. Thank you for the advice though! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Well, here we go!

…

Chapter 12.1: The Wright Anything Agency

 _April_

I paced around Defendant Lobby three, going over the very limited evidence I had in my head while I shuffled a deck of cards. The shuffling helped me focus.

Today was my first day in court. And I would be defending my dad, of all people. My dad, who, by the way, wasn't even here yet.

Needless to say, I was panicking. My palms were sweaty and my heart was going a mile a minute. I was nervous.

"Ah, good morning!" Mr. Gavin, my temporary mentor, said, entering the room and making me jump.

"G-good morning, sir!" I said, stopping in my pacing and fidgeting with my bracelet. And my tie. And my hair.

"You look tense, Apollo. Wound up tight," he observed with a smile.

"W-wound up, sir?" I stuttered. "No! I'm loose! I'm fine!"

"That screeching noise… is that your voice?" he asked, and I winced to realize my voice was raspy. "I suppose it's to be expected… Your first trial, and it's a homicide. One your father was accused of, none the less. I guess a Wright attorney never starts small, eh?" he asked, that grin on his face again.

"I-I'm fine!" I protested. "I got up at 5 AM to do my 'Chords of Steel' voice workout! I'm fine!" I boasted, referring to an exercise Clay and I started in college, not only to exercise our voices, as the name refers to, but also to psych ourselves up and mentally prepare.

I felt like I needed a few more hours of Chords of Steel though…

"Ah, that explains it," Mr. Gavin said with a smirk. "I did detect a certain rasping quality to your screech."

I coughed slightly, realizing he was right. _Me and Clay really need to come up with something new to psych ourselves up…_ I thought.

Mr. Gavin shook his head at me with another smile. "So, Apollo, did you see anything at all that night? You stayed later then I."

"No, sir. I stayed upstairs the entire time… well… until we discovered the body," I sighed, pushing my personal feelings about the victim aside for now. I couldn't afford for my thoughts to be clouded.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes. Yes sir. I'm fine!"

"One more thing. Don't say you're fine quite so much. People might take you the wrong way," he implied, and my face grew hot slightly as I understood his meaning.

"I'll be preparing our case," Mr. Gavin said, glancing over my shoulder. "You might want to go say hi to your father."

I looked over my shoulder to see Dad standing next to the door, watching our conversation. As I walked over, I noticed he was wearing something new.

A locket, around his neck.

 _Where the heck did_ that _come from?_ I thought, giving him a weak smile.

"M-morning, Dad, I said with a weak smile. My nervousness was acting up again.

"G'morning, kiddo," he said, with a smile. "It's all up to you today."

I bit my lip nervously, not knowing how to respond, and Dad glanced to the side, a vaguely nervous look in his eye as well.

"So…" he began, looking back at me.

"Fine!" I yelped. "I'm fine!"

"Ah… Mr. Fine, is it?" he asked, barely containing a grin, and I knew I opened myself to that teasing.

"Daaaaaaaaaad…" I groaned, before sighing, getting serious. Doubt suddenly plagued me.

"I know I said I wanted to take your defense, but… are you okay with it, Dad? You and I both know Mr. Gavin's top notch, and… well… wouldn't you feel more comfortable with him?" I asked. Dad shook his head, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Apollo, I want you, and I know you'll do good," he said sincerely.

"But… I don't feel ready," I muttered.

"You are. Besides, it has to be you."

"Why?" I asked. Dad glanced to the side, and I noticed his eyes slide over towards where Mr. Gavin was looking through a file.

"You'll see," he said, giving my shoulder a squeeze. "You can do it, Apollo. Be confident."

"R-right. Confident…" I repeated with a soft sigh.

"It's time," Dad said. "Shall we?"

"Y-yes," I stammered, and the three of us entered the courtroom.

 _First trial: Nervous. Actually entering the courtroom: Cardiac Arrest…_ I thought, looking around the room as Mr. Gavin and I made our way over to the Defense's Bench. They made Dad wait in the lobby while we talked to the judge first. _Alright. I need to focus_ , I thought as the people poured into the gallery. Finally, I turned my attention to the man across the room, behind the Prosecutor's bench. He wore a green-yellow suite and thick rimmed sun glasses. He was old, shown by the bald top of his head with hair hanging down on either side, to his shoulders.

The judge slammed his gavel (yes, I actually know what it's called now). "The court is now in session," he said, and I was surprised to see it was the same judge who had presided over Zak's case.

 _How old is he?_

"The prosecution is ready, Your Honor," the man across the room said.

"Uh, the defense is, uh, fine! I mean ready, Your Honor!" I announced.

 _I love the taste of foot in the morning…_ I thought embarrassedly. _Mind going blank… Don't panic… Ack, too late!_ I could just feel the sweat pouring down my face.

"You name was… Mr. Wright?" the judge asked, before peering at me closer. "Surely, no relation to Mr. Phoenix Wright?"

"Uh… yes, your honor. He um… he's my father…" I said. A look of surprise crossed his face before he nodded, looking at his notes again.

"And this is your first trial?" he asked.

"Y-yes, your honor! But I'm fine! Really!" I announced, before belatedly remembering Mr. Gavin's warning.

 _Ack!_

"Are you quite sure? Your voice sounds a bit strained," the judge asked, seeming concerned. Another soft cough fought its way out of my throat, and I found myself sweating again.

"Ahem. Mr. Gavin?" the judge asked, looking at the man who stood to the right of me.

"…Yes, Your Honor?" he asked, his arms held calmly behind his back.

"Why is it not you who is heading up this case, while Mr. Wright observes?" he asked.

"That was my original intention. However… A defense attorney must always cede to his client's wishes. And my client specifically requested that I allow Mr. Wright to take the head, while I guide him through," he explained.

"Well, of course he wants this to go right! But to entrust his case to this greenhorn…"

 _Ouch._

"Why?" the judge finished. "I do not exaggerate when I say that you're the best defense attorney in town, Mr. Gavin."

 _Okay, so Gavin's got trial experience, fine. But does he have Chords of Steel!?_ I mentally demanded, psyching myself up again. The judge slammed his gavel once more.

"Then let's begin. The defendant may enter the courtroom," he announced. Dad strolled in comfortably, like he's been in this position before ( _Oh… wait…_ ) and stood at the stand, taking everything in. The judge shook his head.

"This is truly an unfortunate turn of events," he began, studying the man before him. "I'm sorry we had to meet again under these circumstances. Long time no see, Mr. Wright," he said.

"Let's put the past behind us, shall we?" Dad asked, looking down and away, a sad smile on his face. "These days, I'm merely Phoenix Wright, piano player." He looked up at the judge again with a smile.

 _A bad one at that,_ I thought with a tiny smile.

"I won't speak of it further then," the judge said with a small nod.

"It the prosecution would be so kind as to explain the charges, Mr. Payne?" he asked, looking over at the man.

"To think, I saw you enter this room a fresh attorney, and now I'll see you leave in chains," Mr. Payne said with a smirk. I shook my head at the confident man, thankful I wasn't _that_ full of myself.

"Ah, Winston Payne. Subtle as ever, I see," Dad said with a smile, almost like he was enjoying the proceedings so far. Mr. Payne simply smiled, before growing serious, clearing his throat.

"The crime occurred at the Borscht Bowl Club… a Russian restaurant. The defendant, Phoenix Wright, took the victim, a customer… and he hit him! Wham! On the head! Smack! Killed him cold!" he explained. I clenched my teeth at the imagery and sound effects, but managed to keep my silence.

"Hmm… A customer at the restaurant, you say?" the Judge asked. "And the defendant, you say he was…?"

"The pianist for the club, it seems," Payne supplied.

"Phoenix Wright… A pianist?" the judge asked. I glanced over to where Dad was looking away. I recognized his expression as a the carefully constructed one to cover his sarcastic thoughts. Or to play dumb. Whichever the situation called for.

I would bet money that it was to cover his thoughts in this case.

"This is the weapon that took the victim's life," Payne said, holding up an empty grape juice bottle. "A bottle of grape juice. Grape juice is apparently our defendant's drink of choice."

"The court accepts the deadly bottle as evidence," the judge said.

 _Deadly. Right._

"A thing to note, Apollo," Mr. Gavin started. "Make sure to keep record of any and all evidence in your Court Record," he said, glancing down at the book that was my personal Court Record. "Evidence is your greatest weapon in court. Don't let is slip away, and be sure to check it often."

"Yes, sir," I said with a determined nod, quickly making note of the 'deadly' bottle. Mr. Gavin smiled warmly at me.

"I'm confident in your ability to handle this," he said.

 _Right. Evidence and the Court Record. Sounds like it's time for some hands-on action!_ I thought to myself.

"So, the victim was a customer at this restaurant," the judge concluded, before the victim's picture showed up on the monitor. I bit my tongue against my angry reaction. "But just who is this, erm, 'Shadi Smith' fellow?"

 _Subtle, Zak. Real subtle. Stop it, Apollo. You need to focus!_

"We believe he was a traveler, Your Honor," Payne answered.

"A… traveler?" the Judge asked.

"According to his passport, he had been out of the country for a number of years," Payne explained.

 _With a false identity, to boot, if he had a passport._

"He had only returned to this country recently, though his place of residence in unclear," Payne said.

"And he had some sort of connection with the defendant?" the Judge asked.

I opened my mouth to answer, a yes on the tip of my tongue, when I realized that Dad wasn't speaking up at all. He was staying silent about Zak's real identity.

"…That, too, is unclear at present, You Honor," Payne said, and my chance to answer slipped away. "We believe they first met at the Borsht Bowl Club on the night of the crime."

"If they had just met, then why murder?" the judge asked. "Perhaps the victim slighted the defendant's piano playing?"

"That doesn't appear to have been the case," Payne replied, before smirking. "No, the motive had nothing to do with the defendant's lack of playing skill. At least not piano playing. I'll let this photo explain what I mean," he said, before a picture appeared on screen.

It was a black and white picture of the crime scene. Cards and poker chips were scattered all over the table and floor, and Zak was laying back in the chair, his head tipped back.

Something seemed… off about the picture when compared to my memory of the scene, but I just… couldn't place it.

"As we can see, a game of poker was in progress at the scene of the crime," Payne explained.

"Wait a second!" the judge thundered. "Isn't poker gambling?" he demanded.

 _Wow. How long did it take you to figure that one out?_ I thought, a sweat drop running down the side of my face.

"That's a crime in and of itself!"

The gallery erupted into talking at this announcement, but Dad remained calmed.

"Indeed. It appears our defendant… has fallen to become the basest sort of criminal!" Payne announced.

" _Objection!_ " Mr. Gavin yelled before I had a chance. "It is true that the defendant was engaged in a game of poker with the victim. Yet it was only that: a game, in the purest sense. A _competition_ , Your Honor."

"A… competition?" Payne asked.

"Yes, a test of wits, a silent clash of passions… Only the cards, their backs wreathed in blue flame, know its final outcome," Gavin poetically put it.

"Er… come again?" the Judge asked.

"The cards on the table had blue backs, Your Honor," Payne said. I quickly jotted that down in my Court Record, sensing it was important. "I believe the defense was waxing poetic in an attempt to mystify those present…" Payne shook his head. "…And impress women."

"Wh-what!?" I spluttered softly, blushing.

"That will be our first order of business here then: To find out more about this fatal game of cards," the judge said. I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself. Dad simply looked away from everyone, seeming lost in thought, until the Judge slammed his gavel. "Very well, Defendant. You will testify to the court about the power competition held the night of the crime," he said.

"My pleasure," Dad said with a smile. I smiled slightly at that.

 _This is it, my first trial! Here goes nothing! If Dad didn't kill him, he wont lie, and there will be no contradictions. I got this!_ I thought, my confidence levels rising.

"I am a pianist by trade… yet I can hardly play at all," Dad began, and I had to stop myself from laughing. "My real job is to take on interested customers over at the poker table. The room where we play and the competition in there are the club's main attractions. The rules are simple: we play a game of poker using two decks of cards. That's all it is… a game. And our customers are happy," he explained.

"…Hmm… A pianist who can't play piano?" The judge asked.

"Better than a defense attorney who can't defend," Payne quipped. I don't know if he was talking about me or Dad, but I know I bristled at the comment. Mr. Gavin put a hand on my shoulder to keep me from launching myself across the room at the smug man.

The judge hesitated, waiting until a calmed down, before nodding. "Very well. The defense may begin the cross-examination," he said.

"R-right, your honor!" I called. _My first cross-examination! Don't blow it!_

"Are you alright?" Mr. Gavin asked. "You're sweating bullets."

My panic got the better of me. "Bullets…!? Where!?" I gasped.

"It's a figure of speech, Apollo," he said, laughter in his voice. "Your voice sounds strained and raspy, too."

"My brain feels strained and raspy, sir," I admitted.

"You must have seem many cross-examinations while in school. Though you've never done one yourself, have you?" he asked. I nodded. "Care for a refresher?"

 _Should I? I remember the basics of pressing and presenting. Besides, I didn't hear anything contradictory in his testimony just now. I should be fine!_

"No need for help here, sir! I think I've got this one covered!" I said brightly with a grin, confident in my abilities.

"I think you'd better do more than think. You know it, or you do not," Gavin said, and I deflated slightly. I then took another deep breath.

 _I'm fine! The Chords of Steel are ready for battle!_

"Find any inconsistencies, any lies in the testimony, and reveal them to the court," Gavin reminded me. "That is cross-examination. Learn it. Know it. Do it."

' _Inconsistencies'? 'Lies'? Dad…? No, not about this. Dad didn't kill Za—Mr. Smith. He wouldn't lie about this either… other then the victim's identity… but still! It's up to me to prove it!_

"So, you can hardly play the piano?" I asked, my finger to my forehead in thought.

"Oh, I play sometimes. When customers demand it," Dad said with that playing dumb/hiding sarcastic thoughts look. "So I play them one song." He turned back to me with a grin. "That's usually all they want."

 _Wow Dad. Just… stop boasting. Please._

"The title of 'pianist' is a mask – a respectable face I wear for the world at large," Dad explained to the court.

"Then why are you really at the Borscht Bowl Club?" the Judge asked.

"Poker," Dad answered. "As I said, I take on interested customer at the poker table."

"They pay you just to play poker?" I asked. Dad gave me a slightly pained expression, since I shoulder already know the answer ( _yes, they do_ ), but knew I was asking for the sake of the court.

"That would seem to be the case. I am a professional, after all," he said.

 _Very, very true. Even if you had Truce and I help you every now and again,_ I thought.

"Bah! Do I detect pride in that statement?" Payne demanded. "It's just hard for an honest, hard-working member of society like me to imagine…"

"Yes. Your imagination was always a bit limited, Winston," Dad said, looking away with that same, sad smile he always got when he thought of his time as an attorney. I coughed slightly in an attempt to cover my laughter.

"Wh-what!?" Payne demanded, sweating.

"I've played poker for seven years in that little room. "And I've never. Lost. Once," He looked up with a proud smile. I nodded slightly, already knowing that. "You see why the customers come now? 'Defeat the undefeated poker champion'… It's quite a draw," he explained, before smirking again. "That is, I'm quite a draw."

 _Aaaaaaand… he's boasting again,_ I thought, sweat slipping down the side of my face.

"Wait! You've never lost? Not once?" The judge asked in surprise.

"As I said, I'm a professional," Dad said with a smile.

"So… not only are you a, um… 'draw,'" I said, shaking my head slightly. "But you also stated in your testimony that the room in the crime scene photo… is also an attraction?" I asked.

"It has quite a history, actually," Dad said. "The Borscht Bowl Club used to be a gathering spot for black market types back in the day," he explained, and I had to suppress a sigh.

 _Yes, I know. The bartender tells me and Trucy every time we go_ , I thought.

"B-black market!?" the judge gasped.

"All in the past. Things like the black market are only on the silver screen nowadays," Dad said. "Suffice it to say that there were a lot of deals being made under the table. Right there, in that room," he said, motioning to the monitor, where the crime scene photo was still displayed.

"A smoky room, gambling hoods. You know… Just looking at this picture makes me feel 'bad'!" the Judge exclaimed, and this time, a sigh did escape me.

"The bosses gather around the table, cutting deals, safe from the eyes of the law…" Dad said, seeming to enjoy himself with the judge's reactions. "Meanwhile, a good keeps watch through the small window… I can practically picture it now."

"Hmm…" I hummed, looking at the window Dad had pointed out. _That window does look like it would be good for keeping a look-out, but little else…_

"The room has a few other tricks to it… though it was common knowledge to our regulars."

 _Like the secret passage,_ I thought with a small smile.

"At any rate, they came to play poker in a room steeped in history. Despite the dark past, it was all just good, clean fun," Dad concluded.

"So," I began, moving on to my next question. "You would play poker using two decks of cards?" I asked.

"A simple measure to prevent cheating. After all, Apollo, you know how some people are just good with slight of hand when it comes to cards," he said with a grin at me. I chuckled weakly at that, knowing that was a shot at me for the few times when Dad would play cards with me and Trucy when we were younger. I hated loosing, and I was good at card magic. It wasn't too hard to connect the dots of what happened during almost every game. "If you alternate two decks, no one can slip in cards," Dad added.

The judge nodded. "There's something else I noticed…" he said. "In addition to the cards on the table, there are some lying scattered on the floor," he pointed out in the crime scene photo.

"Precisely. Cards on the table, cards upon the floor… Each one forming a complete deck. A crime scene painted blue by a sad sweep of cards…" Mr. Gavin said. I nodded, though something felt… off about his statement. "It's poetic, really."

"Incidentally, we used two types of cards at the club," Dad continued. One deck of cards was red. The other blue."

"Hm… as I recall, in poker you make five-card 'hands,'" the judge said. "I can see how it would be easy to cheat."

 _Especially if you were a magician,_ I thought, one of my hands reaching into my pocket, where my own deck of cards sat.

"Heh… yes. A game of 'hands'," Dad mumbled, and I looked at him curiously. The judge slammed his gavel.

"This competition you're talking about… I believe the court understands the nature of the game sufficiently," he said.

"Th-that's right!" I said, feeling the need to say something here. "It was a simple game, after all!"

The judge shook his head. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Huh?" I asked, taken off guard.

"People are not murdered over 'simple games', Mr. Wright," he said, before turning to Dad. "Defendant. You were in the room the very moment that the crime occurred… Yet you claim no connection to the crime?" he asked.

Dad was silent for a moment, looking down an away. "Now that's strange," he said.

"What's strange?" the judge asked.

"I was testifying about the competition that night," he reminded the court. "Asking me about the crime at this point is against the rules, You Honor," he said, looking up at the man with a small smile. He then looked in my direction. "Of course, I expected to hear a cry of 'Objection!' from the defense…" he said lightly, and I gasped at that in shock.

 _Argh! I completely let that one slip by!_ I thought angrily at myself. _Sorry, Dad…_

"Don't despair yet, Apollo," Gavin said.

"S-sir?" I asked, looking over at him.

"Wright. There's something I'd like made clear," he said, looking over at Dad. I followed his gaze. "Namely, your connection to the case at hand. And I'd like to hear it from you," he said.

"Sure, why not?" Dad said offhandedly. My stomach rolled at the sudden bad feeling I was getting.

 _I should have eaten something…_

The judge slammed his gavel. Very well. The defendant will amend his testimony," the judge said.

 _Just a little pressure, and I've got myself a whole new testimony! Hopefully this bad feeling is nothing…_

"I plead silence regarding the murder," Dad began, and it felt like a rug was ripped out from beneath me.

 _WHAT!?_

"But I will say I never touched the murder weapon," he finished.

 _Why would you… the court record…_ I pulled my notebook towards me and studied the notes I had on the murder weapon.

" _Objection!"_ I yelled, before sighing. "So you say you didn't touch the murder weapon… this grape juice bottle?" I asked as a picture of it appeared on the monitor, covering up the crime scene photo. "Right?"

"So I said," Dad said, not looking at me. I ground my teeth together.

 _Why are you doing this!?_

"Something the matter, Mr. Wright?" the judge asked.

"Hee hee hee…" Payne started laughing, before flipping his hair. "Too bad our new defense attorney never learned how to play dumb!" he said.

"What's this, Mr. Payne?" the Judge asked.

"I examined the bottle in question, you see," Payne explained. "And it was covered with the defendant's fingerprints!"

The gallery erupted into muttering, but I could hardly hear them over the roaring in my ears.

Dad – Phoenix Wright – had detested liars in court. He'd pick apart each detail in every testimony until the truth came to light.

But now… he was lying.. _and_ pleading silent on the murder. _But why!? Did he… did he actually… no… no, he couldn't have. Besides, if he had, he'd be too smart to lie about the murder weapon… right? There has to be another explanation here… I hope…_

" _ **OBJECTION!**_ " I bellowed.

"No need to shout, Mr. Wright!" the judge gasped. "I can hear you just fine!"

A blush flared across my cheeks, and I gave an embarrassed chuckle.

"Excess yelling can damage to judge's ears…" Mr. Gavin said, before looking over at me with a smile. "And our case."

 _B-but what about my Chords of Steel…?_

"Any… anyway!" I said, slamming my fists on the bench, before pointing at the prosecutor. "What's so strange about fingerprints on a bottle in a restaurant?" I demanded.

"Well, that's true. The prints alone don't prove he—" the judge began.

" _Objection!"_ Payne yelled, cutting him off. "Oh, they wouldn't prove a thing… if they were normal fingerprints!" he said with a smirk.

"…Huh!?" I demanded.

"But the fingerprints on the murder weapon were _upside-down_!" he said.

"'Upside-down?' What does that mean?" the judge asked.

"It means he was holding the bottle inverted! And there can be only one reason for that!" Payne said. I crossed my arms in thought, thinking about that.

There could have been another reason why Dad's fingerprints were on the bottle upside down… but I couldn't place the reason just yet.

"…Yes. To brain someone with the bottle!" he said. I clenched my teeth, my hands tightening into fists, the court erupting into chattering.

"You seem upset, Apollo. I see no problem, though," Gavin said with a smile at me.

"Huh?" I asked.

"The only thing that matters is the truth. There's a good reason for everything. You'll see," Gavin said. I took a deep breath and nodded.

"You're right," I said.

"Defendant!" the Judge said, looking at Dad. "Can you explain your fingerprints on this bottle to the court!?"

Dad looked up with a small smile. "I stand by my plea of silence regarding the murder… for now," he said, and I ground my teeth together.

 _WHY!?_ I demanded silently. He caught my eye, then looked away, and I knew he knew that I was frustrated with him.

"Hmm… not very cooperative, are you?" the judge asked with a frown, and I knew Dad's actions were hurting our case.

"I'm sure he's uncooperative because he's hiding something!" Payne said excitedly. "There must be some _reason_ …"

" _Objection!_ " Mr. Gavin yelled. "Your Honor. You seem to have forgotten something," he said.

"And what might that be, Mr. Gavin?" the judge asked, and I realized the answer.

"On the night of the crime, who reported the murder to the police?" I demanded.

"Reported?" the judge asked.

"Well, that was the defendant, Mr. Wright. But still, that…" Payne trailed off, his face coated in sweat.

"R-really!?" the judge gasped. I sighed softly.

 _So it's not that he_ forgot, _just that he never knew…_

"Erm, yes, well. According to the case file…" Payne mumbled, before sighing. "The murder was reported from near the scene, by a call from the defendant's cell phone," he said.

"'Near' the scene…?" the judge asked.

"Yes, Your Honor. The Hydeout, where the victim was murdered, is situated in the basement of the Borsht Bowl Club, two floors down from ground level, meaning there is no phone service down there. My client was forced to leave the scene so that he could make that call," I explained, knowing from experience.

"Let's take a look at the diagram, shall we?" Payne said, a map of the Hydeout was brought up onto the monitor, a human figure sitting in the chair furthest from the door, facing the table. "This is the room where the murder took place, as well as the hallway just outside of it. This represents the victim," he said, using a laser pointer to motion to the human figure. "The defendant used the stairs in this hallway to go above ground…" he continued, motioning to the stairs. "The call came from the first floor of the restaurant."

"I see…" the judge mused, before having a picture of an old, blue beat up cell phone come onto the screen. "And this is the phone that made the call?" he asked. I quickly added that into my Court Record.

"The defendant could have just left the scene if he wanted to, and none would be the wiser. Yet, he called the police. So tell me," I said with a smirk, crossing my arms. "Just how is he being 'uncooperative'?"

 _Other then not telling us_ anything _about the murder. What-so-ever. Daaaaaaaaaad… please work with me?_

"Urk!" Payne gasped, sweating again.

"…I think the prosecution has toyed with our client enough for the time being," Mr. Gavin said.

"T-toyed? I assure you, no one is more serious about…" Payne started, sounding offended. Mr. Gavin didn't let him finish.

"What was it you said? The defendant was 'in the room the very moment that the crime occurred.' How can you possibly know this?" Mr. Gavin asked.

"That's a good question!" the judge gasped. "How indeed!"

"The answer is simple, Your Honor," Mr. Gavin said before looking at me with a smile. "The prosecution has a decisive witness."

Payne chuckled at those words. "You're as good as they say you are."

 _So someone else was in the room the night of the crime!_ _That must mean they_ witnessed _the crime…_

"Everything up till now has been a warm-up, Apollo. Are you ready?" Mr. Gavin asked. I took a deep breath and gave a curt nod.

The judge slammed his gavel.

"Very well. The prosecution may call its first witness to the stand!" the judge announced. A young woman, who I recognized as the waitress from yesterday, came over. I studied her closer, realizing that I had never seen her before last night. Was that why Dad gave her a weird look?

"The witness will state her name and profession," Payne said.

"H-hold on just a moment!" the judge demanded. "Where's the witness?"

"I surmise that she has been frightened by the defenses demonic-looking horns," Payne said, and I ground my teeth together.

 _She was fine when she saw them yesterday! Besides, you're the one with the truly terrifying hairstyle, Skullet-Man…_

"Have no fear!" the judge announced. "If any horns point in your direction, this court will cut them off."

 _I wish I had my hat…_

The woman hesitated for a moment. "You… are sure?" she asked, her voice thick with a Russian accent.

"I swear it on my gavel! Please, come out," the judge said.

"Isn't violence against hair a crime, Your Honor?" I muttered, reaching up to fiddle with one of my spikes.

"Well, if you are sure it is okay…" the woman said softly, before standing up straight, no longer hiding behind the witness stand.

"Ahem. Now, the prosecution…" the judge prompted, only for the woman to suddenly take a picture. "W-w-wait a minute!" he gasped. "Would the prosecution care to explain the witness's… erm… paraphernalia?" he demanded.

"Er… yes," Payne mumbled. "She is a professional, Your Honor. Those are merely the tools of her trade," Payne explained.

 _Bull. I'm calling bull on that. Why would a waitress need a camera!?_

"And that would be…?" the judge asked.

"My name… is Olga Orly," the woman said. "I am employed as waitress in Borscht Bowl Club restaurant."

 _New hire, I guess…_

"Then… why the camera?" the judge asked.

"Of course, it is my pride to serve borscht that is naming restaurant. But I also perform – how it is said? Other service," she explained.

 _WHOA there… That sounds dirty…_

"I take it one of these other services is taking the customers' pictures?" the judge asked.

"Dah, dah. Like, for example… this one." On screen, a picture of Dad and Zak appeared. Dad was sitting on his piano bench, listening as Zak talked. I remember the scene well, though I didn't realize it had gotten caught on camera.

"Th-that's… the _defendant!?_ " the judge exclaimed.

"Indeed," Payne said smugly. "On the night of the murder."

"Man in white hat… is one who has gone kaput," Olga said thoughtfully.

 _That's… one way of putting it…_

"Indeed… That is the victim." The Judge shook his head. "This is quite a piece of evidence to casually drop into our laps!" the judge said.

"It is same way as I drop cold bowls of borscht on laps of customers… casually," Olga said, and I swear I caught a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"Hmm… Then the court will casually accept this new evidence," the judge said, prompting me to make note of it in my court record.

"Now, witness," Payne started. "Where were you at the time of the murder?

"I was in room. The Hydeout, we call it," Olga said.

"That's right!" I gasped, remembering seeing her go with Dad and Zak, acting as their dealer. _So there were_ three people _in the room at the time of the crime… the victim, Zak, Dad, and… Oldga Orly, our witness! And if Dad isn't the killer, that means…!_

"Very well, Witness! You will testify to the court about that night's events!" the Judge announced.

"Dah. That night, customer asked me to deal cards for game. It was cold… Both players played with hats on, dah. The victim, he plays whole time with his hand on locket at his neck. Then, last hand is done! But something terrible had happened, dah! The man flew at the victim, and is strangling him to death!" she said. My eyes narrowed. _A locket? Like… the one Dad's wearing now?_ I thought, glancing over at Dad. He was playing dumb again. As for how the victim was killed…

"Hmm… Incidentally, who won the game?" the Judge asked.

"Isn't it obvious? The winner was the victim… Mr. Smith!" Payne replied.

" _Objection!"_ I yelled before I thought about it. But with everyone looking at me, I knew I had to say something. "That ridiculous! Um… because… Because Mr. Wright can't lose!"

"Ahem. Apollo?" Mr. Gavin murmured. "Maybe you can come up with a more legitimate objection?"

"But he hadn't lost in seven years!" I protested, thought I knew it was foolish.

"Take it from me kid. It happens. I didn't lose a case my first seven years as a prosecutor, either. Incidentally."

 _I find that hard to believe…_

"I have some evidence here." A colored picture appeared on screen of the table top, and it was clear that one side had more chips. "These are the poker chips as they lay the very moment of the crime. The hand and chips on this side belong to the defendant, Mr. Wright. Thos on the far side belonged to the victim, Mr. Smith."

"Chips… you say?" the Juge asked.

"Dah." I snorted softly at that. "I mean yes! Imagine that poker is war… Your hand is your army, and the chips are the spoils."

 _For someone who couldn't imagine Dad's "lifestyle," he sure knows a lot about poker…_ I thought.

"I-I know that. After all, in my youth I was known as… …the 'Poker Head of Courtroom No. 3!'

 _I think he means 'poker face'…_

"Hm… looking at this picture… it does seem that most of the chips are on the _victim's_ side of the table," the Judge mused. I shook my head, jotting it down, but wondering if that was actually that important. _If only I could remember what the chips represented, but it's been too long since I sat in on a game…_

"Very well. The defense may cross-examine the witness," the Judge said. I nodded, thinking through the testimony again. Almost immediately, one statement stood out to me.

"Ms. Orly, can you repeat you last statement?" I said. She frowned slightly in thought.

"'That man flew at victim, and is strangling him to death!'" she repeated.

" _Objection!"_ I yelled, pulling out the autopsy report. "Oh really? 'Strangled,' you say? That's odd," I commented.

"Dah, normal customers only choke on borscht," Olga replied with a smile.

 _That's true…_ I thought with a soft sigh before shaking my head. "No, mean this report shows that the victim died from a blow to the head!" I announced, holding up the report. In turn, it showed up on the monitor. Olga gasped at that, and I slammed my fists on my bench. "Ms. Orly! Really now… did you witness the crime!?" I demanded. She whimpered, but didn't answer.

"Hm… Looking at the picture… it doesn't seem like he was hit. He's still wearing hi hat and everything…" the Judge mused as the crime scene photo showed up on the screen.

"Yes, it is a fact that he was hit, Your Honor. Here's a photo we took of the victim with his hat off during our investigation," Payne said, a new picture appearing. I shivered at it.

It was a close up of Zak's face, the hat gone. His face was frozen in a look of pain, and a dark splotch was in the middle of his forehead, seeming to fun back over his head. I jotted notes about it in my court record.

"Well, that's quite shocking, isn't it? This head certainly was hit," I judge gasped, I smirk, crossing my arms.

"B-but…! I have seen it happen! The defendant, he lung at victim, his neck…" she muttered, seeming confused.

 _Ph really, Ms. Orly? I think I've caught you in you own lie this time!_

"…Apollo," Gavin said, claiming my attention. "I admire you enthusiasm, but perhaps you should think this through one more," he said. I could feel the confusion flash across my face, my eyebrows drawing together.

"Wh-what do you mean? I found a contradiction!" I argued.

"There's one thing in her testimony that… troubles me," Gavin admitted.

"Very well. I seems we should continue the cross-examination," the Judge announce, while I thought through everything. My eyes wondered back to Dad, before I looked down at the crime scene photo.

"Mr. Wright, would you care to explain what it is you're thinking so intensely about?" the Jude asked once I was silent a few moments.

"Recall the testimony, Your Honor… the victim played with 'his hand on locket at his neck,' I believe she said?" I recalled.

"I hope you aren't about to raise an objection to the witness's grammar!" Payne snapped. I rolled my eyes.

"No, but look at this photograph," I said, showing the close up of the victim. "Do you see a locket on the victim's neck?"

"Well done, Apollo. I'm impressed. I knew you'd be able to handle this," Gavin said. I sighed softly.

"Yeah, but that means… the defendant wasn't strangling the victim at all. He was taking his locket…" I looked at Dad again, spotting the locket.

"D-Defendant! What do you have to say to this?" the Judge demanded. Dad stayed quiet for a moment, and the Judge narrowed his eyes slightly. "Say…"

"Yes?" Dad asked.

"I just noticed this, but… you have something hanging around your neck, don't you?" he asked.

"Oh? You mean this?" Dad asked, reaching up and opening the locket and looking at the picture. "Yes, it's a locket… with a photograph inside. A photo… of my kids."

 _The one Zak had…_ I thought grimly.

"Mr. Wright! You're a father!?" the judge gasped.

"We confirmed it at the time of the arrest," Payne said, and a picture appeared on screen. It was one of me and Trucy, seven years ago, when she was eight, and I was fifteen. I blushed slightly at the hat and cloak, something I hadn't worn regularly since then. "The picture in the locket is indeed Mr. Wright's son and daughter. In fact," Payne smirked, flipping his hair. "It seems his son is following in his father's footsteps."

"Mr. Wright?" the judge gasped, looking at me, before a light bulb seemed to go on in his mind. "The defendant is your father?"

"Yes, your honor," I said with a nod, though my thoughts were on the locket. _Why did Dad take it from the victim_ before _the game was over? Did Zak push his buttons wrong, and Dad snapped, feeling like he didn't deserve to have a picture of us? That's… believable, I guess…_

"Well now, if the results of this poker game led to the murder… Perhaps we should hear a bit more about the outcome of the game?" the Judge asked.

"Further testimony won't really be necessary. It's clear the defendant lost. Badly," Payne said. I scowled at him, before studying the picture of the table, thinking over everything I knew about the game. Perhaps Olga's testimony would fill in the holes of my memory.

"The game began with 3,500 point in chips for each man. House chips come in two size: small and large. The one who was winning… dah, it was victim!" She started. I grabbed my wrist as my bracelet tightened, but it was telling me something I already knew: Dad was winning that game. "For last hand, defendant play with all chips on table and lose. The moment loss was decided, defendant grabs bottle from table and…" she trailed off with a shiver. My bracelet continued to stay tight, and I knew: her entire testimony was a lie. I just… if I could remember the values of the chips…

"Indeed… Looking at this picture… it does seem to be a one-sided game," the judge said.

"As the court knows, poker was the defendant's life! Failure must have been a bitter pill to swallow!" Payne said.

"Ah, how many times have I heard these words: 'I done it in a fit of anger, Yer Honor, and now I regret what I done!' …A common tale, but true," the Judge said with a shake of his head. I quirked an eyebrow slightly.

 _Methinks the judge watches too many old court movies. Dad hasn't lost in seven years, and my bracelet was tight as can be. She was lying the whole time, but I need something to prove that. Well, here it goes…_

"Ms. Orly, you said the game began with 3,500 points for each man. Are those the usual starting points? Or were any special rules used?" I asked.

"No, not special. Usual game, usual rules," Olga said.

"If each man began with 3,500 points, then the total would be… um… exactly six, no 7,000 points!" the judge said.

 _Please, this isn't calculus. It's not even long division!_ I thought, before looking at the picture again. _So, all of these chips have to equal 7,000. But… how?_

"Are the chips in this photo all that were used?" I asked as the picture of the table reappeared on screen.

"Da-dah! Of course!" Olga said. I narrowed my eyes slightly.

"Maybe you could explain a bit about these 'chips?'" I asked.

" _Objection!_ " Payne's shrill voice shouted. "Poker chips are poker chips. They're not fish and chips, not a chip off the old block, not a motorcycle cop, not a—"

"Thanks," I said, cutting him off. _Wha…? Nevermind, not important._ I turned back to Olga. "What are these chips worth?" I asked.

"Points," she started. "Two types of chip: 100 points chip and 1,000 points chip," she explained.

"Apollo," Gavin said.

"Sir?"

"You seem very invested in that information, and I myself find it interesting," he said.

"Yes, sir, I think I can use it," I explained.

"I'd have it added to her testimony myself," Gavin hinted. I nodded.

"Well? Does the defense want the witness to add her testimony?" the Judge asked.

"Yes, I do think this deserves further scrutiny. Add it to the testimony!" I said, my eyes glued to the picture of the table, flickering between the two piles of chips. The pieces were quickly clicking into place now.

"Very well. Witness, if you would be so kind?" the judge said.

"D-Dah, Your Honor. One kind of chip is worth 100 points, other kind is worth 1,000. Two kinds in all," she explained. A slow smirk crossed my face.

" _Objection!"_ I yelled. "You sure it was the victim who won? Absolutely sure?" I demanded. Olga gasped softly, looking surprised.

" _Objection!"_ Payne yelled. "It seems our new attorney is a bit confused. A glance at the picture is enough to tell you who won! If you're notin kindergarten," he said with a smug glance at me. I didn't let it ruffle my feathers though. I knew I was right with this.

"Um… just for safety's sake, could you explain the problem to the court?" the judge asked.

"Of course, Your Honor," I said before motioning to the monitor where the picture was. "In this photo I see small chips and I see large chips. Tell me… which were worth 1,000 points?" I asked, looking at the prosecution.

"Why, the big ones of course! Duh!" he snapped. My smirk grew, and I crossed my arms.

"Oh, I thought so too… but then the totals don't add up."

"Th-the totals…?"

"Let's review what the witness told us: Each man started with 3,500 points in chips. And the combined total value of the ships were 7,000 points," I explained.

"Yes… if my calculations are correct! Let's see… three plus one, carry the five…" the Judge muttered.

"Um, they are, Your Honor," I said, before turning my attention back on Payne. "Now! Look at this photo that allegedly shows _all the chips_. If the big chips are worth 1,000 points, and the small ships are worth 100… and you add them up…" I said.

"How much is it!?" Payne demanded, and I looked at him for a moment.

 _Do it yourself… you aren't in kindergarten, are you?_ I had to bite my tongue before the words came out of my mouth. "10,600 points. The chips don't add up! This clearly contradicts the witness's testimony!" I pointed out.

"B-but why!? How could this be!?" Payne gasped.

"Exactly… Apollo. Now that you know the 'what,' you must determine the 'why.'" Gavin said. I nodded.

 _There's only one way to explain this contradiction!_ "Each man began the game with 3,500 points. If all the chips are indeed shown in this photograph… Then there can only be one answer," I said.

"Well, what is it?" the Judge asked.

 _Dad will get a kick out of this…_ "The value of the chips… was the other way around!"

"Wh-what!?" the prosecutor gasped.

"The small chips were worth 1,000 points, not the big ones!" I asserted

"Madness! Utter madness!" Payne gasped.

"Show me that photograph of the chips again!" the judge demanded, looking at the monitor. "There are six small chips… and ten large chips… why, that does make 7,000 points when you add them up!" he gasped. Dad caught my eye and smiled proudly at me, and I felt a warm glow in my chest.

"Excellent work, Apollo," Gavin said.

" _Objection!_ " Payne yelled, his voice jumping an octave. "B-but wait! The value of the chips may be different, but that changes nothing!" he asserted.

"Indeed. The victim did have the larger number of chips still…" the judge said, studying the picture, before gasping in surprise as he realized something.

"…Exactly. If the small chips are 1,000 points, and the large chips are 100… Let's do a little math. Add up the points for each side of the table!" I said.

"Ah…" Payne gasped, before making a strangled sound.

"The victim, Mr. Smith, had 2,900 points, and the defendant had… 4,100 points!" the judge announced.

"Well now… it seems that Mr. Wright was winning that night after all!" I announced.

"That's… impossible!" Payne gasped.

"Which means your motive is gone, Prosecutor Payne," I said.

"NOOO!" Payne yelped.

"Now… Ms. Orly. You must have known the true value of the chips. Since you were there at the scene of the crime… weren't you?" I demanded. She simply bit her lip, hiding behind the witness stand. The courtroom erupted with surprised talking from the gallery.

"Order! Order! It appears our defendant has lost his 'motive.' And Mr. Wright's supposed defeat… never happened," the Judge concluded.

"Nnn…" Payne… said? I don't even know how to describe the noise coming from him.

"We must ask ourselves whether we can trust the witness's testimony at—" the Judge began, only to be cut off.

" _Hold it!"_

"E-excuse me? What is it, Ms. Orly?" the Judge asked, surprised.

"I… I did not want to be saying this, but… Actually, you see, erm…" she muttered.

"See what, Ms. Orly!? What do we see!?" Payne demanded, desperate to save his crumbling case.

"In the last hand, there was a _cheat!_ " she announced.

"A ch-cheat? You… you don't mean… a trick!?" Payne asked.

"Wait, or do you mean… a scam!?" the Judge added.

 _They're all the same thing!_

"Yes, there was cheat in last hand… that is why game ends with chips as they are!" Olga announced.

 _Great… just great… first we have lying and false identities… now cheating. Wouldn't put it past Zak though…_ I thought bitterly.

"Well, this case certainly has taken a turn… for the interesting!" Gavin said with a smile.

"Witness! You will please testify to the court! Tell us about this cheating in the final hand!" the Judge demanded.

"The last hand… both men had 'full house.' There is four of each card in deck, from ace to king. If you look at both men's hands, cheat is more obvious! The next moment, game becomes argument, dah! The defendant's trick was exposed! He took bottle in his hand… Poor Mr. Smith!" she said.

" _ **OBJECTION!**_ " I yelled, rage pulsing through me. "My father would never cheat at a game of poker!"

Everyone in the courtroom stared at me, and Gavin put a hand on my shoulder.

"Calm down, Apollo. You have to keep a clear head if you want to prove your father's innocence… and that he didn't cheat," he said, giving my shoulder a squeeze. I took a few deep breaths.

"Sorry," I muttered, before realizing something. _She didn't mention this from the beginning… well now, maybe this trick is more of the magic variety. Time to reveal the trick behind this case!_

The judge nodded before looking at his notes.

"Hm… a full house is a very high-scoring hand. Not easy to make, in my experience," he said.

"That alone is enough to suspect less-than-scrupulous tactics," Payne added. I ground my teeth together at what he was implying, but took a few deep breaths before I could have another outburst.

 _I need a clear head!_ I reminded myself.

"You can see each player's hand in this photo," Payne said as the picture of the table showed up on screen again.

 _Wow… they both have full houses!_

"We forget, there's an easy way to make a full house… and go undefeated for seven years. You cheat," Payne said. My hands clenched into fists, but I continued to take deep breath.

 _I need a clear head to knock that damn smug look of his face!_ I reminded myself once more. _Besides, if he were to have cheated, that still leaves one important question… Dad_ lost _that hand. Who's ever heard of a professional con man losing when they cheat!?_

I thought through her testimony. "It's common knowledge that a deck has four of each card," I mused, my hand slipping into my pocket and pulling out my own deck of cards. My hands automatically shuffled them while I thought.

"Dah. One spade, one diamond, one heart, and one club for each card," she said. "It is interesting fact that this number four comes from number of seasons!"

"Huh, you don't say," I muttered, still trying to think through the testimony.

"Ah, and did you know that the cards are numbered one to thirteen? Add all the cards in a deck and you get 364… a year!" the Judge added.

"Huh, you don't say," I repeated, now distracted though. _They act like I've never seen a deck of cards, though I've probably seen cards more then any of them. Besides, isn't that a day short?_

"That's why each deck has two jokers," Payne added. "They say the second joker stands for the leap year. Thus you have a perfect representation of the year… all in a deck of cards!"

"Huh, you don't say." _We're going to be in this courtroom for a year if it keeps going like this! Focus, Apollo!_ "Ms. Orly! How is the cheat 'clear'? I demanded, remembering this part of her testimony.

"Dah, well… the defendant… he played a fifth ace!" she announced. I nearly dropped my cards.

"A f-fifth ace!?" I gasped.

"I still remember both hands very well. Mr. Smith's hand has three aces… and Mr. Wright's two," she said.

"Obviously, cheating was afoot! Or perhaps I should say… a hand!" Payne said, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes as I put my cards back in my pocket.

"Your Honor… Perhaps this can be added to the testimony? Without Payne's joke," Gavin requested, and I had to cough in order to cover my laughter at the look on the prosecutor's face.

"Very well. The witness will add this detail to her testimony, please," the Judge said.

"Mr. Smith's hand has three aces, and Mr. Wrights two… It is five aces in all," Olga said. I looked closer at the picture of the table, before smirking slightly.

" _Objection!"_ I yelled. "It appears the witness is mistaken…"

"Miss… Taken? But my name…"

"Look," I said, pointing to the monitor as the picture of the table appeared on it. "This piece of evidence clearly contradicts what you said in your testimony!"

"That's… the photo of the chips, is it not?" the Judge asked uncertainly.

"Apollo, perhaps you ought to explain your point in a way that the judge can comprehend. In other words, use your finger to 'point' out your point!" Gavin said.

"Yes… Please point out the contradiction in this photo. What particular 'point' contradicts the witness's testimony?" the Judge asked. I smiled, pointing to the victim's cards.

"Ms. Orly, in your testimony, you made the following claim: 'Mr. Smith's hand has three aces'… But you can clearly see, the victim's hand only held two aces!" I announced!

"Eeek!" Olga squeaked.

" _Objection!"_ Payne yelled. "Well… well maybe the witness was simply confused! Perhaps it was the defendant's hand that held the third ace in question…"

" _Objection!_ " I shouted back. "Take another look at the evidence! As you can see, the defendant also held two aces in his hand. Where's this fifth ace? I see cheating alright," I slammed my fists down on the table before pointing at Olga. "And it's going on right here in this courtroom!"

"Two aces in each player's hand does make four aces total. Hardly proof of cheating…" the Judge agreed.

"Wait! Please! It is true… I have seen it! The fifth ace! There was cheating, I swear to you," Olga said. I rubbed my wrist, just below my bracelet, with a frown. It was feeling a little loose, actually.

 _That's odd… she must be lying, yet she's the most sincere I've seen her all day. And my bracelet isn't reacting…_

"You're right to trust your instincts," Gavin said.

"Mr. Gavin?" I asked.

"Who knows what lies in store for us in the trial ahead… Your Honor, if I may. I have a suggestion…" he said, looking up at the bald man.

"What might that be, Mr. Gavin?" he asked.

"If you don't mind… perhaps we might examine the actual cards?"

"The cards…?" the judge asked.

"Mr. Payne." Gavin turned his piercing eyes on the prosecutor.

"Urk. Yes?" he asked, taken by surprise.

"The players' hands that night were set aside as evidence, were they not? The defense would like to request that the cards be shown to the court," he said.

 _With I could be that cool and commanding…_

"Very well, the prosecution will submit this evidence! Which will you examine? The victim's cards… or the defendant's cards?" the Judge asked. I thought through everything so far.

 _It was the victim's hand that 'changed' over the course of the witness's testimony…_ "The defense requests time to examine Mr. …Smith's cards," I announced.

"Very well. Mr. Payne, if you would…" the Judge said as a bailiff walked over to the prosecution bench, collected the cards from him.

"…Very well," he said. The bailiff came over and gave me the five cards.

"Well, time's a wasting. Get to it, Apollo," Gavin said.

"Y-yes, sir!" I said, before putting on a pair of gloves and carefully pulling the cards out of the evidence bag. I inspected each card carefully, my trained eye looking for any trick that could have been used.

As I flipped one of the kings over, I froze. Amongst all of the red cards… was a blue one.

 _Wh-what!?_ "Your Honor! Look at this! One of the victim's cards… The back is a different color!" I announced.

"Eh…? Ehhhhh!?" Payne gasped.

"Th-that's impossible! But I put that card in Wright's hand… ack!" Olga gasped in a decidedly non-accented voice. My eyes narrowed as anger pulsed through me again, but Gavin was quicker on the draw.

"…What was that, Ms. Orly?"

"No… Nynyet! Er, I merely said, eh… Dah, I have, eek!"

"Your Honor?" Gavin said.

"M-Mr. Gavin, yes?" the Judge gasped.

"Tell me, what is the easiest way to cheat at poker?" Gavin said.

"To… cheat?" the Judge was lost.

"I'll tell you. One merely needs a friend, a 'comrade,' shall we say… the dealer!" Gavin announced.

"Ah… ah!"

"So you mean this witness… Ms. Orly…" I muttered.

"She's a cheater," Gavin said. "A professional, I'd wager."

Olga made a strangled noise, confirming what Gavin said, and the courtroom erupted.

"Order! Order!" the judge yelled.

 _Focus, Apollo. Time to take advantage of her! …I mean, of her mistake!_ I thought to myself, shaking my anger off for now. "Your Honor! Please recall the testimony we just heard!" I demanded. "Ms. Olga had said 'That's impossible! But I put that card in Wright's hand…' Ergo! Ms. Olga Orly conspired to cheat, not with my client… but with the victim!" I announced.

Olga groaned at that.

"Not only did she cheat, she cheated poorly! Therefore! It's not hard to imagine an altercation between her and the victim…" I reasoned out.

"Whaaaaaaaat!?" Payne gasped.

"Wait, you don't mean… The defense isn't _accusing_ the witness, Ms. Olga Orly… are you?" the Judge demanded.

 _There were three people in the room at the time of the incident. And if Dad isn't guilty, that means…_ "…I am! The defense accuses the witness, Ms. Olga Orly, of murder!" I announced. Olga let out another squeak and fainted, and we were given a few minutes recess.

"…Mr. Payne. Where is your witness, Ms. Olga Orly?" the Judge asked once we reentered the courtroom.

"Erm, it appears she has lost, eh, consciousness, Your Honor," Payne admitted, glancing over at me.

"Hmm… Mr. Wright?" the Judge said, looking over at me.

"Your Honor!" I replied.

"It seems you've presented a new possibility to the court. One suggesting a connection between the witness and the victim, Mr. Smith," he said.

"And that means…?" I asked hopefully.

"The court cannot pronounce a verdict for the defendant at this time!" the Judge replied.

"Nnk…! What!?" Payne gasped.

 _I did it! I held out!_ I thought.

"I see no point in prolonging the trial this day. The persecution will need to make further inquires…

" _Objection!"_

"D-Dad…?"

"…You can't end the trial here, You Honor. Not yet," Dad said, stepping up to the witness stand.

"What nonsense is the defendant spewing now!?" Payne demanded.

"Think. One of the cards had a different colored back. Don't you wonder what it means?" Dad asked.

 _Not really. I was hoping to gather more evidence to save your uncooperative hide…_ I thought with a sigh.

" _Objection!_ " Payne yelled in confusion. "Wh-what are you doing, Mr. Wright!? Raising objections right when you're about to get off the hook!? Ridiculous!"

"Mr. Payne, you of all people should know… Mr. Wright has a talent… for the ridiculous!" the Judge said, and Dad looked away. I could see the sarcasm gears spinning in his mind. "Perhaps we should get to the bottom of things. Let's clear up the facts about the game that fateful night."

"As was said before… we alternated between two decks of cards that night," Dad started.

"That was said before!" Payne snapped.

"The two decks at the club have different colored backs" Blue… and red. One color per deck," he continued as though Payne hadn't said anything.

"Why use different colored backs?" I asked for the sake of it.

"If we used the same color, the two decks might get mixed.

 _Um, you used different colors and they STILL got mixed up…_

"We used the _red_ deck for the last game," Dad said.

"Hmm… I see. But… that's odd. For some reason… I have this impression that you were using the _blue_ cards!" the Judge said.

 _Yeah, me too…_ I realized. _I'm sure someone said something about blue cards…_

"Whatever. In the end one card of the wrong color got into the mix… which means there was cheating," Payne said.

"Yes, a card slipped into the deck would seem to indicate cheating…" Dad agreed. "Yet… this card raises two serious questions… Apollo?" he said with a smile at me.

"Yeah?"

"Let's considered the first question? Think. In the last game… when was the card swapped?" he said, laying it out, just like he used to when helping me with my school work. I thought it over, closing my eyes.

"That's a simple one, Mr. Wright," Payne snapped. "Of course it was swap—"

"Oh? It might be as simple as you thing, Mr. Payne," Dad interrupted him. "Or it might not be."

"Nnnk!"

"I'd like to hear what Apollo thinks first. When do you think the cards were swapped?" Dad asked. I thought through each of the possibilities before gasping, my eyes snapping open.

"It had to be after the murder!" I announced.

" _Objection!_ " Payne yelled. "Wh-what's this? Ridiculous! What's the point of cheating after the hands have been shown? That's silly!"

" _Objection!_ " I yelled back. "Think about it, Mr. Payne. Poker and magic aren't too different." I pulled my deck from my pocket, took out five cards, and fanned them out, like I was playing a game of cards myself. "Players watch their opponents' hands just as closely as an audience watches a magician's hands, vigilant for a trick, or cheating, in the case of poker. Now, even without watching closely," I passed my free hand, one that was palming the blue card, and easily and smoothly switched it with one of the red cards in my hand. To everyone else, it simply looked like I had changed the color of the back of my card. "Wouldn't you notice that difference right away?" There was a smattering of applause, and some gasps, and I smirked. "If you pulled that during a game of poker, you'd be caught in no time."

"Ah…" the Judge gasped.

"Quite true," Dad said as I put the blue card back in the evidence bag, and my deck back in my pocket. "That would mean the blue card in question… was swapped _after_ the hands were shown, _after_ the murder!"

" _Objection!_ " Payne yelled. "I ask my question again: what's the point of cheating _after_ the game's over!? Who would do that!?" he demanded.

"Who indeed," Dad mumbled. "That's one of the mysteries before us."

"Th-there's another?" the judge asked.

"Yes. A simple, yet decisive question must be asked: Who swapped the red card for the blue card?" Dad said.

"The game, and murder, is done. The victim is dead. Only two remain in the room. Alive, that is. The defendant, Phoenix Wright, and our witness, Olga Orly," Gavin said, rubbing his chin. I thought through everything.

"Well, the one who swapped the cards wasn't Mr. Wright, of course. And, well, it doesn't seem like it could have been Olga Orly, either…"

"Wh-what are you suggesting!?" the Judge demanded.

"That's hardly a logical conclusion, I'll admit. As the defense, I think it only makes sense for you to name Ms. Orly at this point," Gavin said.

"Yes, yes, I know! But… but she was the one who dealt the cards, right? I… I just can't believe she would make the mistake of swapping the wrong color card!" I explained.

"And if the card was swapped during the game, it'd be obvious…" the Judge mused.

Dad started chuckling.

I shook my head, knowing where this was going.

"Something you'd like to share with the court, Mr. Wright?" the Judge asked.

"Oh, my apologies, Your Honor. I was just thinking how much fun all this is," he said.

 _He misses standing in court…_

" _Objection!"_ Payne yelled. "Fun!? How about confusion!? I've no idea what the defense is claiming, Your Honor. If the one who swapped the card wasn't the defendant, and it wasn't Ms. Orly… Then who was it!?" Payne demanded.

"Er, yeah, well, that is the question, isn't it?" I admitted, unsure myself.

"Precisely, kiddo," Dad said.

"Huh?" I asked.

"I believe we're about to see this case take… a new direction," Dad said.

"A new direction?" the Judge asked.

"We'll find that, indeed, after the murder… someone swapped one of the cards in the victim's hand. And that someone made two critical mistakes," Dad said.

"I'm sure you're going to tell us that the first was swapping the wrong color card," Gavin said.

"Because the one who did the swap didn't know two colors of cards were being used. The other mistake… was the _number_ on the card," Dad explained.

"Right… the person replaced the fifth ace with a king," I mused.

"I'm sure whoever swapped it wasn't expecting there to be a fifth ace, after all. All they new was the game had been won with a full house. So they picked up a king from the table, and swapped it in," Dad reasoned.

" _Objection!"_ Payne yelled. "B-but! There's one problem… according to our case record this person doesn't exist!" he protested.

"True, not until now. But you have to admit the possibility of a _fourth person._ Though it's more than a possibility. There was _someone else_ there that night at the scene of the crime," Dad said.

 _But I didn't see anyone else when I ran downstairs right after the murder. Then again, I didn't even notice Olga on the floor, so maybe my observations at that point aren't too reliable_ , I thought to myself.

"Wha-whaaaaat!?" Payne gasped.

"I believe the judge spoke truthfully earlier. You do make trials… ridiculous, Mr. Wright," Gavin said, and I frowned in his direction at the insult.

"This trial has proceeded on one central assumption: namely, that, at the time of the incident, there were only three people in that room," the judge mused.

"I believe this new evidence, shall we say… overturns that assumption?" Dad said brightly.

"The problem is that you chose to conceal this information from the court!" the judge snapped. Dad adopted that 'playing dumb' look, which was really starting to get on my nerves.

"…I supposed that is a problem, yes," he agreed. The Judge sighed in frustration.

"Court is adjourned for a brief recess! Mr. Gavin, I'll see you in my chambers during this recess," he said.

"…Certainly, Your Honor," Gavin said with a nod.

"Very well! The trial will resume in twenty minutes!" The Judge banged his gavel.

…

 **A/N:** Whew… that was long. I was too ambitious for my own good. The next chapter will be part two of this one, the Trial Latter.

I really enjoyed writing Apollo doing a magic trick to prove a point, by the way. It was a lot of fun, hehe.


	14. 12-2: The Wright Anything Agency

**A/N:** Hey guys! Here's another long chapter!

 **Review Replies-**

 **Gamergirl:** I know that feeling, believe me! The end of the trial will be different from the game, so he won't react the same way (aka: punching his adoptive father). I had WAY too much fun coming up with that, and it won't be his last courtroom trick, believe me! He's a magician, through and through, even if he doesn't want to be. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Lastly, I (as EmeraldWings1992) am collaborating with other Ace Attorney fans to write Investigations 3! It's going to be EPIC, and while I'm only a special beta (Logic Chess/Magatama segments), I still had a hand in the planning stage. You should go check it out! It's under PierceTheVeils, and called Ace Attorney Investigations: Miles Edgeworth: End of an Era. Prologue went up July 1st!

Well, here we go!

…

Chapter 12-2: The Wright Anything Agency

 _April_

"That was quite… unexpected, Phoenix. To suddenly claim there was another person at the scene of the crime like that… I must ask… is it the truth?" Gavin said as soon as we got to the defendant's lobby. Dad looked at him for a moment.

"Well now… I'd think you would know the answer to that?" he said, his voice heavy with meaning. I quickly looked at Dad, knowing him well enough to know he was implying something.

I wasn't sure I wanted to know what that something was…

"Ah, being mysterious, are we? Sadly, I've no time for mysteries. I'd only ask that you leave the defending to your defense, in the future. Otherwise… I cannot guarantee the outcome," Gavin replied. I could almost hear the undercurrent of a threat.

"I see you haven't mellowed out one bit, Kristoph," Dad said pleasantly, seeming to not hear it.

Gavin shook his head and turned to me. "Apollo."

"Yes?" I asked, looking up at him.

"The judge has summoned me to his chambers, so carry on without me," he said, before walking away. We watched the door close behind me.

"You did well, kiddo," Dad said, clasping my shoulder. I frowned slightly shrugging him off.

"No thanks to you, Dad. You of all people should know how suspicious you're making yourself look, between lying and staying silent about the murder?" I shook my head. "You're making it really hard for me to defend you," I ranted, before moving in close and hissing "especially since I _know_ where you got that locket, and who the victim is."

Dad looked at me, shocked.

"As I was leaving, Shadi – Zak – whatever, walked in." I could feel myself getting worked up, but was powerless to stop it. "So I stayed and overheard everything you two talked about. And I waited for you to come back up out of the Hydeout, to confront him. I _know_ you took that locket off of him, and I _know_ he gave all of the rights to the Gramarye magic to Trucy, and I _know_ he's dead, and I—" I cut off as Dad's arms wrapped around me, holding me tight against his chest, anchoring me back down and dispelling the all consuming rage building in me. I sighed, resting my forehead against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Apollo. I'm sorry," he said.

"You have nothing… I trailed off and shook my head. "Why are you hiding his identity, Dad?" I asked.

"Because if it came out that Zak Gramarye reappeared after seven years, you and Trucy would be thrown back into the public eye. And even though I didn't kill him, if his real identity was revealed, that would make my motive that much stronger. Too strong to disprove, in fact, and I would probably be found guilty. Where would that put you and Trucy?" he said. I thought about what he said and nodded.

"Makes sense," I muttered. Dad gave me a squeeze, before stepping back.

"Now then, you compared magic and poker, but remember, law isn't that different from either of those," he said.

"It's not?" I asked.

"No. It's all about reading one's thoughts. _Perceiving_. You're usually very attentive to people's unconscious tells. Didn't you notice that witness, Ms. Orly's?" he asked. I smiled weakly.

"No, though I can't say I've been a hundred percent clear headed either," I admitted. Dad sighed, shaking his head.

"Well, get clearheaded. You're going to need it to win this," he said. "Ms. Orly would touch the back of her neck during certain parts of her testimony," Dad explained. I nodded, taking a deep breath and calming down. Then I smiled.

"You've been around me and Trucy too long, if you can pick it up," I said, and he laughed at me.

"Maybe. Finally, one more thing, Apollo. I haven't told _the truth_ of this case to anyone yet," Dad said. I sighed.

"I knew it."

"I have my reasons, of course. All shall be revealed. And Apollo… I need you to be there, defending me," Dad said. I sighed softly.

"Dad, even if I'm _incredibly_ irritated at you for making my first case so hard… you know I'll never abandon you," I said. He smiled before looking at the clock.

"…It's time. The real trial begins now. Do your best," he said, clasping my shoulder once more, before we reentered the courtroom.

…

"Court will now reconvene. Has our witness, Ms. Olga Orly, recovered?" the Judge asked, looking at Payne.

"Y-yes, Your Honor! Er, well, she's regained consciousness…" he admitted, sweating buckets.

"Perhaps we can hear her version of the events again?" Gavin asked as I opened my mouth. I looked up at him in surprise.

 _Uh, shouldn't I be the one doing all of this?_

"That's the thing… you see, she's quite fatigued," Payne said.

"You're looking a bit fatigued yourself, Mr. Payne," the Judge said.

"Sadly, fatigue is insufficient grounds for refusing to testify… or prosecute," Gavin countered. "The defense would like to request that Ms. Orly take the stand."

 _Really? Again, shouldn't_ I _be the one saying all of this?_

"Very well. The witness will take the stand!" the Judge announced. Olga was shown to the stand, which she promptly hid behind.

"Perhaps you could repeat your name and profession?" Gavin said. Olga didn't answer. "Or perhaps you'd rather admit that you're a poor liar, and a poorer loser."

"Ny-ny-nye-!" she started, before growing tired of her charade. "Not." She pulled the hat, heavy jacket, and gloves off, dropping them to the floor and revealing a dealer's outfit beneath, topped off with a red bandana on her head that had a dice print on it. "Name's Olga Orly," she said with a decidedly non-Russian accent. "That's the truth. I'm a pro dealer. People call me… Olga "Quick-Fingers" Orly!" she said.

"Oh… oh really?" the Judge asked, shocked byt the sudden change in the witness.

"What to know something else? I'm not really Russian! And my last name sounds like "Oh really!" There, that's the truth! I hope you're satisfied," she huffed.

"Witness!" I said before Gavin could speak. "You will tell the court what you were really up to that night!"

"Fine, I'll talk. We had a _plan_ , see," she started.

"Let me remind you that you are currently under oath. Any further fabrications will have serious consequences," the Judge said. Olga hesitated before shrugging.

"…Fine. Like I said, I'm a pro. That guy, Smith, hired me to do what I do best. I was planted at the Borscht Bowl Club several days prior to the night of the game. As a witness," she explained. I ground my teeth together, not liking where this was going.

"So you were in cahoots with the victim…" I ground out.

"Not that he needed my help. Smith is a well-known poker player in some circles. But winning wasn't the main purpose of this game. It was about destroying a legend: the unbeatable Phoenix Wright! The plan was simple. Elegant, really. You see, we set up a trap of storts… I was to plant a card in Wright's pocket beforehand… and then deal five aces during one of the games. When their hands were revealed, Smith would call him out and search Wright. He would then pull out the planted card and the trap would snap shut!" Olga shook her head. "Exposed as a cheater and losing on top of it! It would have made a great double play. Just like that, the legend would be dashed to pieces."

I wanted to yell and scream. I wanted to punch something. I wanted to do something – _anything_ – but sit here and listen to how Zak wanted to screw over Dad again, especially now that Dad was taking care of Zak's kids.

But I had to get to the bottom of the case. If I left now, I would also be screwing Dad over.

 _Get a hold of yourself, Apollo. Zak's dead. He can't destroy Dad's life again…_

"Oh really, Orly"? How droll. But… it appears you made quite the mistake," Gavin said as I tuned back in to the trial on hand.

"A mistake?" the Judge asked.

"I agree, the trap was elegant. Yet, what happened to that planted card?" Gavin asked, and it was like a ray of sun breaking through the clouds in my mind.

"Hey, that's right!" I gasped.

"He's lucky, I'll give him that. You'd have to be to slip free from a trap laid by Olga "Quick-Fingers" Orly!" Olga snapped with a scowl in Dad's direction.

"Oh really? The witness would be much cuter if she dispensed with the evil mastermind shtick," the Judge admitted, and I shook my head.

"Cute…? Who wants to be cute? I'm not cute! I'm bad! You hear me? Bad!" Olga snapped. The Judge shook his head.

"When you're through being bad, perhaps you could testify to the court?" he said in a bored tone. "Tell us about this 'trap'… and how it was sprung."

"That night, I planted the card like I was supposed to. And Wright lost the last hand, just like he was supposed to. Then Smith searched him! But the planted card was gone! The trap failed. The next moment, Wright picked up a bottle and swung it! It wasn't me who hit Smith! It was that no-good, cheating defendant!" she testified.

"Hmm… a surprisingly frank testimony that still leaves us mostly in the dark," the Judge said.

"The trap was perfect! If that rotten cheater hadn't messed it up," Olga snapped.

"Look who's talking!" I said.

"Well, the testimony, for what it's worth, is all yours, Mr. Wright," the Judge said. I nodded.

 _With witnesses like her, who needs criminals?_ I thought, before looking at the defendant's chair. _And with defendants like Dad, who needs prosecutors?_

"Ms. Orly, the planted card… which card was it, exactly?" I asked.

"The trump card… the Five of Hearts."

"Let me guess," the Judge said. "Mr. Wright was to have switched the Five with the Ace to make a full house. At least, that's what you were going to accuse him of doing, thereby ruining his legend."

"I slid it into Wright's pocket," Olga admitted. I shook me head slightly.

 _Sloppy card handling. "Quick-Fingers" Orly isn't really quick witted…_ "When was this…?"

"Why, before the match, of course, while he was eating with you and glasses over there. At the Borscht Bowl Club, we serve borscht… and suckers," she said with a smirk.

"Remind me never to go there," the Judge said.

"Of course, the card was to make its grand debut during the game… Like a good borscht, a good plot must be cooked up early and allowed to thicken."

 _My borscht is making me feel nauseous…_ I thought, thinking back to the borscht I ate for dinner. I shook my head. "So, everything went according to plan at first?"

"Exactly. The fifth ace came up, so it's obvious the switch went off without a hitch. Once the extra card was found in his pocket… Wright would forever be known as a cheat and a fraud," she replied. I took another deep breath.

"There are worse things to be known as I suppose," the Judge mused.

"But when my client was searched, the card disappeared?" I asked.

"Yeah!" Olga replied. "My trump card, the Five of Hearts! Gone! Without a trace! Poof! Zippo! We searched every nook and cranny… Even inside his cute little hat!" Olga said. I glanced over at Dad, noticing his shoulders shaking slightly from silent laughter.

"But the card was nowhere to be found, is this correct?" I asked.

"Never in my long, storied career… Never has 'Quick-Fingers' Orly been so readily duped!" she said. I thought again about where she placed the card, and had a hard time believing that.

"Oh really. So, what did happen to that Five of Hearts?" the Judge asked.

"Don't look at me. Why don't you Ask that cheating, lying, two-faced defendant?" Olga snapped. I clenched my fists on the bench in front of me, getting _really_ tired of her calling my dad a cheater. Then I realized something else: _The Five of Hearts is still missing…_

"Hm… isn't it a little odd that the defendant attacked the victim though?" I asked.

"Wh-why's that?" Olga demanded.

"You searched the defendant, er, thoroughly, and found nothing? Which means he didn't cheat… which means he had no reason to strike the victim!" I reasoned.

"W-well…" Olga muttered, putting a hand on the back of her neck. That's when I noticed it, as well as felt a pulse through my bracelet.

 _Wh-what was that just now!? I… sensed something… like when someone lies, but this time… it was sharper… clearer…_

"Something wrong, Mr. Wright?" the Judge asked.

"No… nothing, Your Honor." _What to do? Should I press her a little harder? Hm… That seems to be the only way._

"Ms. Orly! You're hiding something!" I announced.

"Wh-what are you talking about!?" she demanded, getting a little twitchy. "Y-y-you! M-m-m-me? 'Quick-Fingers' Orly, hi-hi-hide something?"

" _Objection!_ " Payne yelled. "The defense will refrain from baseless accusations!"

"I have one question for the witness then. You say you saw the moment the defendant hit the victim… is this true?" I demanded, knowing I had to pick my words carefully.

"O-of course it's true!" she snapped. "I d-did see it, honest! I saw it when Wright hit him. With my own eyes, I saw it!"

Suddenly, my focus sharpened on the woman. I could see every little twitch of each and every one of her muscles. I could tell what was a conscious movement, and what was an unconscious tick.

I'd always been able to see when someone was lying to me, but this time was _different_. I was actually _seeing_ it, rather then simply sensing it. Like Dad said, her touching the back of her neck was a tick, something she was entirely unaware of. I smirked.

" _Gotcha!_ " I shouted. "Ms. Orly… Perhaps you are unaware of this yourself…" I started.

"Un-unaware of what?" she demanded.

"Whenever you get to a certain part of your testimony… you touch the back of your neck with your left hand!" I announced. I could see many people looked confused, but I was focused on the woman at the witness stand.

"My… my neck?" she asked. "So… so what!?"

"What indeed, Apollo?" Gavin asked softly. "I hadn't noticed anything of the sort…"

"When she says that part of the testimony… she's subconsciously recalling _something…_ " I said, remembering what I've learned from my own experience. Grandfather reacted to the subconscious memory of whatever happened to Mom, causing his eye to twitch all those years ago, and Trucy swallowed subconsciously when I demanded to know if she ate my pudding two days ago. "Her body reacts to the memory, and she touches her neck! I'm sure of it!"

"A memory? Would someone care to explain what he's babbling about?" Payne demanded.

"This is highly unusual… but let's ask the defense. You claim the witness is remembering something. Maybe you have evidence of this 'memory' to show us?" the Judge asked. I took a deep breath.

 _Her habit is scratching her neck whenever she talks about the moment of the crime… so what would remind her most of the moment of the crime?_ I thought before realizing the answer to be obvious. "Ms. Orly. Whenever you recall the crime that night, you scratch your neck. I've noticed it happens when you think about the _moment of the crime._ There must be some reason behind this 'habit' of yours. I believe the weapon that left an inerasable 'impression' on your neck is this!" I announced, holding up the Grape juice bottle – the murder weapon.

"Whenever she talks about the moment of the crime, she touches her neck… and what reminds us more of that moment than this bottle, the murder weapon!" I demanded, before looking at the woman. "But… something doesn't fit. If you were only the witness to the crime… why would that make you touch—" I suddenly cut off, remembering something from the night of the murder. I had followed Dad downstairs, where I saw Zak, dead. Dad explained he came upstairs to call the police… _after Zak attacked the dealer_.

"Ms. Olga… you were hit that night, weren't you?" I asked, and she gasped, lurching back in shock, before sighing.

"Yes. When we couldn't find the Five of Hearts… Smith grabbed the bottle from next to Wright… and he hit me!" She shook her head. "When I came to…" she trailed off.

"The victim was already dead… is that it?" the Judge asked, earning a nod from Olga.

"That's why I couldn't reveal who I really was. If it came out that I was in league with Smith, I'd be a suspect for sure!" she said. The courtroom was silent for a moment before the Judge cleared his throat slightly, looking around.

"Well. Where does this leave us?" he asked.

"M-madness. Th-this is madness! I'm dreaming! It must have been me who was hit with a bottle and I'm imaging all of this!" Payne gasped. I rose an eyebrow at him.

"It appears our prosecution is at his wit's end, and frankly, I can't blame him. Mr. Gavin, what do you think about this turn of events? The Judge asked. Gavin didn't answer for a moment.

"M-Mr. Gavin? Sir?" I asked.

"I believe that, as the defense in this case… we are compelled to call Ms. Orly a 'big, fat liar,'" Gavin said, much to my shock.

"Wh-whaaaaaat!?" Olga gasped, her eyes growing wide.

"Three where in that room the night of the murder: the defendant, victim, and her… and she had motive," Gavin explained.

"A motive?" I asked.

"Her plot foiled, the witness got into an argument with her client, Mr. Smith. And the denouement of that argument… was murder!" Gavin said.

"What!?" Olga gasped. "I didn't… I'm no killer! It's a trap! Someone's trying to frame me!"

Dad chuckled again. "What tangled webs we weave when we practice to deceive. So tangled, we catch ourselves in the process."

"M-Mr. Wright?" the Judge asked, before noticing me look up at him as well. He shook his head. "Defendant?"

"Such a hasty conclusion… it's not like you, Kristoph Gavin," Dad said, and I looked at the man I was standing next to.

"What are you saying?" he demanded.

"Why not consider the other possibility?" Dad suggested, sounding once more like an attorney. "That there was another person in the room at the time of the murder?"

 _Right…! Like Dad was saying before recess!_

"A single card was swapped into the victim's hand after the murder. And the one who swapped the card didn't know _two colors_ of cards were being used… a fourth person," Dad reasoned. I had to admit, his logic was sound.

" _Objection_!" Payne yelled. "Hah, this theory again! Your 'fourth person' doesn't exist!"

"Indeed. That's why I decided to bring this case to court," Dad said, as though he were the one in control. I almost had to wonder if he wasn't. "Here, where there's no escape, and no chance for deception… The perfect place to catch the real criminal."

"The r-real criminal?" the Judge stammered.

"And we're in luck. A clue to the real criminal's identity was kindly provided for us. And right at the beginning of the trial, no less," Dad said, and something stirred in my brain. I _knew_ what he was talking about. After all, living with _the_ Phoenix Wright for so long made me pay a lot more attention to what people said. But this trial had been such an emotional rollercoaster that remembering the just a few hours ago ( _has it really been only a few hours?)_ was hard.

"Wh-whaaaat!?" Payne gasped.

"Apollo… perhaps you know what I'm talking about?" Dad said. I pressed a finger my forehead, deep in thought.

"When the fourth person swapped the cards, he made one critical error. He swapped a blue one in. It was such an obvious mistake, so it couldn't be one of the three in the room. It had to be someone else, someone who thought the cards were blue…" I reasoned out.

"And there is one person, here, in our court… who thought those cards were blue," Dad reminded me.

 _I had that impression to… but why?_

"Well, Apollo? Think you can figure out who it was?" Dad asked. I closed my eyes, still pressing a finger to my forehead in thought.

"I-it's not me, I swear!" Payne gasped, and I was distracted, looking up at him in confusion.

 _I never thought it was…_

"Who is this fourth person!?" the Judge demanded. I shook my head, thinking over everything said in this trial, before gasping softly.

"Let's hear what the defense has to say. Who was it? Who thought the cards used in the final game were blue?" Dad asked. I took a deep breath, glancing at the man beside me.

"It was… Kristoph Gavin," I said.

"As I expected. Your eyes and ears are as sharp as your hair, kiddo," he said, and I frowned slightly at his joke. He then turned to the man who was supposed to be his friend, his eyes cold. "Kristoph Gavin. You were the fourth person that night."

"B-but of course Mr. Gavin knows the color of the cards!" the Judge said.

"How would he, Your Honor? The photo of the crime scene is black and white," I said.

"But you can see the colors in this photo!" Payne countered, as a picture of the table came onto the monitor.

"Yes, but when he said the cards were 'blue'… it was well before this evidence came to light!" Dad pointed out. I thought back to Gavin's statement: 'Only the cards, their backs wreathed in blue flame, know its final outcome.'

"Well, Krisoph?" Dad asked. The man didn't answer. His arms were crossed now, and he was looking down at the bench, the light reflection on the lenses of his glasses hiding his eyes.

"Mr… Gavin?" I asked, only to be again answered in silence.

"Mr. Gavin! I-is something the matter?" the Judge demanded.

"Hmm? N-No, nothing. Excuse me, it was just so… sudden. Wright. You aren't seriously accusing me… are you?" Gavin demanded, looking up.

"Oh, Kristoph? You know even I'd never take a joke this far," Dad said.

" _Objection!_ " Payne yelled. "This has gone beyond ridiculous, beyond dumb… This is insanity! The defendant accusing his own defense attorney of murder?

" _Objection!_ " I yelled. "The defendant is _not_ accusing his attorney! Remember, I'm the head of the defense here. Mr. Gavin was simply guiding me in my first case!" I said.

"And I assure you, I'm quite sane," Dad added.

"But what possible connection could Mr. Gavin have to the victim!?" Payne demanded.

"I wasn't aware that I had a connection to Mr. Smith, either," Dad replied.

 _More of a connection then Gav—Wait… no! That's right! Gavin was Zak's attorney first, but he fired Mr. Gavin after playing a game of cards with him._

"Yes, but Mr. Gavin and the victim have never even met!" Payne said.

"Well… what if they have?" Dad asked.

 _Careful Dad…_

"Huh…?"

"There is a possibility, after all. They may have met that night, before the game started," Dad said.

"What are you suggesting!?" the Judge demanded.

 _Did they? Gavin left before me, and I bumped into Zak at the door… but what about the parking lot? Did they run into each other there? And is this the truth Dad was staying silent about? Well, only one thing to do!_ "Mr. Wright! The defense would like to request that you testify to the court!"

" _Objection!_ " Gavin suddenly yelled. "The defense would like to request no such thing."

"Mr. Gavin…?" I asked, looking over at him with a frown.

"Testimonies must relate to the case. How could anything happening before that game of poker be related?" Gavin said.

"I'm not sure I follow, Mr. Gavin," the Judge said.

"As I explained before, the defense believes that Ms. Orly—" Gavin started, only for the Judge to cut him off.

"Am I to assume you speak for Mr. Wright in this? As he pointed out moments ago, he is the defense, not you," he said. Gavin fell quiet in surprise.

"Mr. Wright. The matter of Mr. Wright's… uh… I mean the defendant's… testimony is up to you," the Judge said.

"Right," I replied, getting focused.

"Does the court, in your opinion, need to hear Mr. Wright's testimony?"

 _This was Dad's strategy! He was planning this all along! And I intend to see it through._ "The defense would like to request that Mr. Wright testify to the court!" I announced. Gavin looked at me, before looking at the bench in front of him, staying silent.

"Very well. The defendant will take the stand please," the Judge said. Dad walked over to it, his hands in this hoodie pockets as he started.

"That evening, Kristoph, Apollo, and I had dinner to celebrate Apollo passing the bar exam. We sat at the table in the photograph. First Kristoph left, then Apollo. Shadi Smith walked in a few minutes after. Apollo bumped into him, and decided to stay, sitting at the bar. When the 'trap' failed, Smith hit the waitress. The girl was knocked out cold, and Smith was uncontrollable. I left to call the police. When I returned, he was dead, blood streaming from a cut on his forehead. Apollo followed me downstairs, and stayed there while I made another phone call… To Defense Attorney Gavin."

"Mr. Gavin! Mr. Wright! You were at the Borscht Bowl Club the night of the murder!?" the Judge exclaimed.

"I dine with Kristoph rather frequently, as well as my kids. I was hoping to get Apollo a job at Gavin and Co. Law Offices," Dad explained.

"A-and Gavin talked to the defendant on the phone directly after the murder!?" Payne gasped.

"Quite against my will, I had become involved in a murder. While Apollo offered to defend me, I thought we might be in need of a lawyer with more experience to guide him, so I called Kristoph," Dad explained.

"You were planning this all along, weren't you, Wright?" Kristoph demanded, and I could almost see him loosing his cool. "Just because you wanted to drag me into your little murder trial…"

"The only thing I want… is the truth. As I did back then… and now," Dad said, and I felt almost like I was electrocuted.

 _Back then? Does he mean Zak's trial?_

"I thought I was doing you a favor in guiding your boy on your defense. It appears that I was wrong," Gavin said.

"Very well. The defense may cross-examine the witness," the Judge said. I thought over the testimony before nodding.

"About how long would you say you dinned with me and Mr. Gavin?" I started.

"About two hours. Kristoph left first, before you went to as well," Dad said. I nodded.

"You said we left a few minutes before Mr. Smith came in. I bumped into him at the door, so are you suggesting the two of them passed in the parking lot?" I asked.

"That would have been a 'fateful encounter' to be sure," Dad said with a small smile.

" _Objection!_ " Payne yelled. "Here I was all nervous about this 'meeting' between the victim and Mr. Gavin," he tsked, shaking his head. "But now we hear they only passed in the parking lot? If anything, it sounds like the greenhorn has more a motive to kill Mr. Smith then Mr. Gavin does!"

 _For bumping into him? No. For reasons you don't know about? Maybe…_

"Hmm… simply passing each other does seem a little weak as a pretense for murder," the Judge agreed.

"Oh it would be. If that was all that really happened," Dad said. I sighed softly, getting an inkling of knowing what happened.

"I do have a question for the defense though," Payne suddenly said. I looked up at him.

"Yes?"

"Why did you wind up staying?" he asked.

"After bumping into Mr. Smith… I could see that he was they type of poker player who would attempt to win, no matter the cost. Those types of players are dangerous to Dad, and I got worried. Apparently with good reason, considering everything we've learned today," I explained. The Judge nodded.

"A son worried for his father. How noble, he said with a warm smile. I smiled slightly back before growing serious again.

"the 'trap' you mentioned: Ms. Orly's trap?" I asked, and he nodded.

"A harmless prank, in essence. It was by a quirk of fate that I happened to discover it…" Dad said.

"A 'quirk'…?" Payne asked.

"I happened to put a hand in my pocket… and found a card," he said. I shook my head once more.

"Sloppy planting on her part," I said.

"You would know, Apollo," Dad said with a smile. "I snuck a peek at it and found it was the Five of Hearts. I had a feeling something might happen so I disposed of the card… before the game," Dad explained.

"Disposed… where!?" the Judge demanded.

"There was an empty bottle of grape juice I had been drinking right beside me. I threw the card inside the bottle," he explained.

"And empty bottle of grape juice…" Payne muttered.

"The murder weapon!?" I gasped.

"Yes. I rolled it up and shoved it in. The colored glass makes it hard to see," Dad explained.

"Hmm… a battle of wits between the deceiver and the would-be deceived! That sounds like terrific drama…" the Judge mused.

 _A card inside the murder weapon? That's strange… did the police miss it in their investigation? Maybe I'll take a look…_ I decided, though I had to wait until I had a moment.

"Mr. Wright! The 'Poker Head of Courtroom No. 3' approves of this battle of wits! Please revised your testimony with this new information!" the Judge said. Dad nodded, and I decided to deal with that bit of information later.

"So, you made the call to the police from the first floor of the restaurant, correct?" I asked.

"Exactly. Cell phones don't get signal down in the Hydeout," Dad explained.

"Was anyone else on the first floor at the time?" I asked.

"Other then you, no. And I didn't even notice you. It was the middle of the night, after all. So there, in the darkened restaurant, I called the cops. After making the call, I returned to the Hydeout. It didn't seem right to leave the injured waitress alone," he explained. I nodded.

 _Then I followed him…_

"When you returned, the victim was already…" I started.

"Dead, yes. I'll admit, I was a little startled when I walked in…" Dad said.

"A 'little'?" the Judge asked.

"He was bleeding from his forehead, after all," Dad explained.

 _I was a little more then startled, though it might just be my past with Zak… Wait a minute!_

" _Objection!"_ I yelled. "Mr. Wright, if I may," I started.

"Yes?" Dad asked.

"Take a look at this photograph of the crime scene," I said as the picture came up on the monitor. "See the victim here? He's wearing a hat. I wouldn't think you could see blood on his forehe…" I trailed off, suddenly realizing why the picture looked wrong to me.

 _He wasn't wearing his hat when I walked into the room…_

"Good point…" Dad muttered, knowing what I just realized.

"Defendant," the Judge started, and I noticed he hadn't called him Mr. Wright in quite a bit. "Can you explain this to the court?"

"Ah… I forgot to mention something. I was the one who put that hat on his head," Dad explained.

"Eh…?" I muttered.

"You…?" Payne questioned.

"You put the hat on the dead man's head?" the Judge asked.

"He wore it through our entire poker game. After calling the police, when I returned to the scene, his head was in full view. Shining bright… Just like in this photograph," Dad explained, and the close up came onto the screen.

"And…?" the Judge asked.

"And I picked his hat up off the floor and put in on his head," Dad said.

"Wh-wh-why'd you do a thing like that!?" Payne demanded.

"All I can say is… I'm sorry. But that's the only thing I touched at the crime scene," Dad said. I frowned slightly in thought.

"So… Ms. Orly didn't see it? 'It' being the victim's… er, his head," I asked.

"I'd think not. She was out cold. I believe you and I were the only ones who witnessed his head, and you were in such a state of shock that I don't think you even remembered," Dad pointed out.

"Mr. Wright!? You witnessed this?" The judge demanded.

"I… saw his head, but not Mr. Wright putting the hat back on. As he said, I was in a state of shock. After all… that was the first dead body I'd ever seen," I explained.

"Ah, here we go again…" Gavin muttered.

"Mr. Gavin?" I asked.

"Ahem. Pardon. It just seems that our client is determined to lie his way through this case. Be careful, Apollo. Follow your father's example, and you'll loose your badge before you even start another case," Gavin said.

 _Hey! Watch it!_ I thought before turning back to Dad.

"Could you explain why you called Mr. Gavin?" I asked.

"I'd obviously gotten involved in a rather… sticky affair, and while you offered to defend me, Apollo, you'd only had your badge for about a week. I figured Kristoph's law offices would give me a friend rate for my defense fees if it was he who guided you through the case," Dad explained.

"Ah, glad to hear you intend to pay," Gavin said.

"Oh, I'll pay in full, Kristoph. It was I who got you involved, after all," Dad said.

"…You may find the price of your defense quite high, my good friend. Quite high," Gavin said, and I could almost hear the threat in his voice. I decided to steer the conversation away from that topic.

"So, why did you hide the card in the bottle?" I asked.

"I perceived my opponent's intent immediately. I'm used to entrapment, you see. I knew what was coming," Dad explained.

"Hoh hoh… so you struck first! I like that," the Judge said excitedly.

"After having a pair of magicians for kids, I know every trick in the book. They don't work on me," Dad explained.

 _At least, when you get lucky and stick you hand in your pocket they don't_ … I thought, thinking about the times Trucy and I did pull one over on him. Deciding now would be as best a time as any, I requested to examine the murder weapon. Pulling on gloves, I turned it this way and that.

"Mr. Wright… if I may?" I said, looking past the bottle and to the man on the stand.

"Yes?" Dad asked.

"I've examined the bottle, and I don't see any card in here," I explained.

"Hmm? No?" Dad said before falling silent, studying the bottle in my hands. He himself looked confused.

"What, Defendant? Surely 'Hmm' isn't all you have to say for yourself!?" the Judge pressed.

"I can't say that I know what happened to the card. I did put it in that bottle, however," Dad said.

"Huh…?" I muttered.

"Perhaps a fifth person came and took it out? Oh, and a sixth person could've helped!" Gavin said mockingly. He was definitely loosing his cool.

"Mr. Gavin… the defendant is your client!" the Judge said in slightly outrage.

"…My apologies, Your Honor," Gavin muttered.

"I won't have you disparaging our investigation, either! We looked inside that bottle. There was nothing!" Payne said.

 _I don't think Dad's lying about this one. So what happened? Did the card just… disappear?_

"I believe that's enough of that," Gavin said.

"Uh, Mr. Gavin?" I asked.

"The witness's 'testimony' is more like a 'travesty.' It's riddled with lies. I'm beginning to see how you came to lose your attorney's badge seven years ago…" Gavin said. Rage boiled in me.

"That was uncalled for, Mr. Gavin," I snapped.

"Well. You certainly have a unique way of treating your clients, Kristoph. I never knew," Dad said.

"I believe it was you who threw the first stone…?" Gavin countered.

"Dad!" I cut across his response, fed up with the formalities. "If you intend to ever tell the truth about this case… it's now or never!" I pressed.

"Don't be misled… I haven't told a single lie here," Dad said.

"Eh…?"

"When I noticed the 'trap'… I put the card in the bottle to dispose of it. And when I put the hat on the victim's head… Let's just say I had a _reason_ for doing that as well," Dad explained.

"A… reason?" the Judge asked.

"That reason… is right here." He held up his cell phone.

"Your… cell phone?" I asked.

"That night… Recall that I spoke with Defense Attorney Gavin after calling the police. Just in case, I recorded our conversation," Dad explained.

"What's this…?" Gavin gasped softly.

"Now that we're all here, I see no reason why I shouldn't play it back for the court," Dad said, before putting it on speaker phone and hitting play.

" _Kristoph. I seem to be in a bit of trouble."_

" _What's this? Game not going well?"_

" _Something like that."_

" _The gentleman who challenged you… he turn out to be good?"_

" _He turned out to be dead. Someone hit him. Hard."_

" _You mean someone cracked that flawless bone china pate? It… wasn't you, was it?"_

" _Me? Please. The cops should be here any minute. Apollo's going to defend me, but we'll need your help in guiding him… should it come to that."_

The call cut off then.

"'Bone china plate'…?" I asked.

"A kind of porcelain, very smooth and shiny. And not 'plate,' but 'pate.' I believe he as referring to a certain gentleman's balding forehead," Dad explained.

"Hmm… the court appreciates the defendant's discretion in not indicating my forehead," the Judge hummed.

 _Wait a second… something's not right about that phone call!_ "So, after we ate dinner with you, Mr. Gavin left the Borsch Bowl Club," I said.

"Yes," Dad replied.

"Then… then how did he know? When did he see this 'bone china pate'?" I demanded.

"Oh… that's right!" the Judge gasped.

"Yes… that was when I began to see my good friend in a different light. Troubled, I returned to the crime scene. You still hadn't entered the room, Apollo. You were sitting in the hallway, seemingly in shock. But when I spotted Mr. Smith's head again, I realized exactly what was wrong." He shook his head. "Well, Mr. Gavin. The stage has been set. Perhaps you would like to explain this to the court? Exactly how did you come by your privileged knowledge of the victim's head?" Dad asked.

"…So, this is your 'reason.' The reason you put the victim's hat back on," Gavin said.

"Your point, Mr. Gavin?" Dad asked.

"…It's come down to this, has it… Phoenix Wright," he said. The gallery started talking amongst each other.

"Order!" the Judge yelled, slamming his gavel. "I will have order! Mr. Payne!"

"Y-yes, Your Honor!?" Payne gasped.

"I believe this court has been left with no other choice… Are you prepared to hear Defense Attorney Gavin's testimony?" he asked.

"Eh? Ah… Urk? Ahem! Well, as the prosecutor, I…" he trailed off, seeming to stall for time.

"…Very well! We'll break for ten minutes. After which Mr. Gavin will take the stand for cross-examination! Are we clear on that?" the Judge demanded.

"Crystal clear, Your Honor," Gavin said, his voice cold.

"Very well! This will be the final recess for the day."

…

I flopped onto the couch in the lobby, rubbing my face with my hands and letting out a deep sigh. _Gavin and Dad are both in the judge's chambers! Who'd have thought today would turn out like this!?_

"Polly!" an all too familiar, and frankly comforting, voice said. I looked up in time to be see Trucy rushing over to me, throwing her arms around me in a hug. I smiled at her, hugging her back.

"Hey, Squirt. Watcha doing here?" I asked.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay. I could see your emotions running high, especially when they called Daddy a cheater," she said. I smiled, giving her a squeeze.

"I'm good," I said. "I just… I need something. I don't have any evidence to prove Gavin did it, other then his few slip ups. But that's not enough. I need… I need…" I mused.

"A trump card?" Trucy supplied, and it was like a light bulb went off in my mind. I hadn't seen Gavin, but that didn't matter. The layout of the Hydeout, the reason the cards were swapped… everything clicked into place, and I knew what to do.

 _A trick… an illusion… one Dad himself used before. I have everything I need already!_

"Yes! That's brilliant, Trucy!" I said, giving her a tight squeeze. Trucy grinned brightly up at me.

"Glad I could be of service, Polly! Now go out there and get Daddy a full acquittal!" she cheered. I laughed, kissing her forehead.

"Will do."

…

My hands nervously shuffled my deck of cards as I stood at the defense bench. Illusions and tricks were common place for me, but the timing and success of this one would determine a lot: Dad's verdict, and probably my reputation as a lawyer.

 _I'M APOLLO WRIGHT, AND I'M FINE!_

"Court will now reconvene. Defense Attorney Kristoph Gavin, will you please take the stand?" the Judge said. Gavin stepped up to the stand, arms crossed, clearly displeased with this turn of events. "Now then, if you would, Mr. Payne."

"Y-y-yes, Your Honor! Erm, will Mr…. er, the witness state his name and occupation?" Payne said.

"Is this farce necessary, Your Honor?" Gavin demanded.

"Believe me, far stranger things have gone on in this courtroom," the Judge said, and my hands froze on my deck for a moment.

 _And I'm worried about a little magic trick?_

"…Fine, I'll play along."

"First, there's one thing we need to have made clear. How did you know about the 'secret' beneath the victim's hat?" the Judge demanded.

 _By 'secret,' I'm guessing he means the fact that Zak was bald…_

"Forgive my curiosity, but what is it about this fellow's head? Your honor seems to have an inordinate interest in it," Gavin mused.

" _Objection!"_ Dad suddenly yelled from right next to me, at the bench. I jumped slightly, nearly loosing my cards. "I wouldn't call it inordinate, Mr. Gavin," he said, pointing at the man.

"D-Dad!" I gasped.

"What do you think you're doing, Wright?" Gavin nearly growled, though he still, somehow, retained the collected façade.

"Wow, things sure look different from the other side. You know what I mean, Apollo?" Dad said, and I couldn't help but smile. _I knew he missed this._ "Speaking of 'looking from the other side,' let's consider something for a second. The victim wore that hat all night, never once taking it off, except for that one time," he explained.

"That one time… being the instant he was hit!" I replied.

"Oh…!" the Judge gasped.

"When my client returned from reporting the crime, the hat was lying on the floor. He picked it up, and placed it on the victims head… in other words, in order to have seen Mr. Smith's bald head… you would have had to be at the scene of the crime… at the time of the crime!" I announced.

"In other words, you'd have to be the real killer… is what you're trying to say," Gavin said.

"Not bad, kiddo," Dad said warmly, giving my shoulder a squeeze. I smiled warmly at him, until Gavin started chuckling.

"Mr. Gavin…?" the Judge asked.

"I'm afraid that I haven't been entirely honest with the court," he said.

"Wh-what!?" Payne gasped.

"…Oh, I assure you, I had the noblest of intentions. I did it all… to protect my client, Mr. Wright," he said. I jolted in surprise slightly, scared of where this might be going. "Yet, I'm afraid in the current situation I see little reason to hide anything… Very well. Allow me to tell you the truth of what happened that night."

"Finally! You may begin your testimony. Tell us… how were you involved in the events of that fateful night?" the Judge asked.

 _Don't get your hopes up, your honor._

"The rage I sensed in that man that night troubled me… so I returned to the club. I went down to the basement and peeked in through the little window to the Hydeout. It must have been right after the murder took place. The victim was dead, as he appears in the photo. A bald head, an unconscious girl, Apollo in shock… and Wright, holding a bottle in his hand. I sensed that was not the best place for me to be at the time and so I left. That's when the call came from Wright," he said.

"So… you witnessed the murder!?" Payne demanded.

"For better or worse. I missed the actual moment of the deed. Though I do wonder if Apollo saw what happened, but his mind has blocked the memories to protect the image he has of his father…"

" _Objection!"_ I yelled. "I was upstairs in the bar at the time of the murder! I witnessed nothing until Z – Smith was already dead!" I snapped. Gavin looked at me in surprise for a moment, before adjusting his glasses and shaking his head.

"Mr. Gavin, may I remind you that you are on Mr. Wright's defense team… Your testimony is clearly disadvantageous to your client!" the Judge said.

"What else could I say? I'm standing on the witness stand, after all," Gavin replied.

"So you are, Mr. Gavin," Dad replied, getting a questioning look from the other man. 'And you had to testify as you just did… You had to tell them you saw the scene of the crime through that little window."

"Uh… Dad?" I asked.

"You had to say that… because that was the only probable window of opportunity. Right, Apollo?" Dad said.

"Oh…"

"Defendant, the defense should do the cross-examination, not you! Mr. Wright, are you prepared?" the Judge asked. I nodded.

"Yes, Your Honor…" I replied. _I can't believe I'm going up against Mr. Gavin. Wasn't he supposed to be my mentor?_

"The rage in 'that man'… you mean Mr. Smith?" I asked.

"He was different from the other customers… His aura, shall we say. I knew he was a serious poker player… bit it was more than that," Gavin explained.

 _You can say that again…_

"So then, you knew the true nature of your client's job!?" Payne asked.

"Of course. But I also knew he wasn't engaged in gambling, which would be illegal," Gavin explained.

 _Which would make sense, considering they were friends_.

"Worried for my friend, and his son, I returned to the club. You see, I feared this Mr. Smith might be someone coming to settle an old score," Gavin explained.

"I see…" the Judge said.

"The little window you looked through… you mean the one used to keep watch up the stairs?" I asked.

"Yes, a relic of the ancient past. The black marketers used it, I believe," Gavin explained.

" _Objection!_ " I shouted. "Mr. Gavin, since you left the club after dinner, I didn't see you at all that night," I countered.

"Apollo," he tsked, his voice full of pity. "You were sitting by the steps, in a state of shock. I doubt you noticed much," he said.

"It's true, Mr. Wright. According to the police reports, you were in shock from seeing your first dead body when they arrived," Payne said, and I cast my mind back.

…

" _I have to make another call, okay?" Dad said._

" _Who?" I asked, my voice soft._

" _Kristoph. I believe I'm going to be arrested for this," he said, walking past me. I caught his sleeve._

" _Dad, let me defend you," I offered. He stopped, looking back at me in surprise, before smiling warmly._

" _If that's what you want. Alright then. I'm still going to call him, and ask him to mentor you through the case though, alright? After all, this will be your first trial."_

 _I gave a small smile and nodded. "Alright. Makes sense," I said, letting him lead me back up the steps._

 _That's when I realized… he probably doesn't know that I know the real identity of the victim._

 _I sat in a booth, listening to Dad's side of the conversation, before the realization settled over me._

 _Zak… was_ dead. _Not simply missing, but…_

"— _ght. Mr. Wright!" My head snapped up to the sound of someone calling my name, and I saw an officer standing in front of me._

" _Huh?" I muttered._

" _Oh, thank goodness. You were conscious, but unresponsive for about five minutes there, kid._

…

"But… I…" I muttered. Dad pit a hand on my shoulder.

"Drop it, Apollo. You have no way of disproving this," he said. I sighed, but nodded.

"Alright then. When you say the victim was as he appeared in the photo, do you mean the second pictures of the crime scene? The close up?" I asked.

"Precisely. You see, he wasn't wearing his hat then. I saw his head… when he was dead."

 _And then Dad came along and replaced his hat…_

"So you're saying we were the only four at the scene of the crime?" I asked.

"Kind of. You were outside the scene and unresponsive, Apollo," Gavin said. "But those three, yes, as far as I saw, at least."

"…Then we're back where we started, with just the addition of a useless witness," Payne said, throwing me a dirty look, like it was my fault. "The killer is the defendant, Phoenix Wright! Who else could it have been? But… why didn't you talk to the police?"

"Two reasons," Gavin started. "First, I didn't actually witness the very moment of the crime. Second… my office was asked to assist in defending Wright. Even after seeing what I had seen… I couldn't abandon my friend."

"Hmm…" the Judge hummed.

" _Objection!_ " I yelled. "There must have been someone else there at the moment of the crime!" I asserted.

"Apollo… I just said I saw no one. Not a soul," he said.

"But that goes against what we've thus far have proven!" I replied. "There was a fourth person there!"

"Ah yes, this mysterious 'fourth person'… who would conveniently be the 'real killer,' I suppose," Gavin said.

"Glad to see we agree, Mr. Gavin," Dad said brightly.

"Let me pose a question, then. Tell me. What possible reason did the 'real killer' have to swap cards in the victim's hand?" Gavin asked. I flinched slightly, though I was expecting the question. With a sigh, I placed my deck on the bench and drew the top card, twirling it slowly in my hand in thought. "Hmm? Perhaps you can show us a reas—" Gavin cut off, staring at the card in my hand. "Wh-whaaaaat!? Wh-what… what is that!?" he nearly roared.

"This? It's an Ace of Spades, Mr. Gavin," I said.

" _Objection!"_ he yelled. "Impossible! Unacceptable! The court can't accept this evidence! It's a fraud! The fifth ace should not exist!"

"Oh… really, Mr. Gavin?" I asked, putting the card on the bench, face down. "Now how would you know something like that?" I asked.

"Wh-what…?"

"The only person who could claim that the fifth ace should not exist… would be the one who took the real card from the crime scene… the real killer!" I announced. Gavin flinched, gripping his arms.

"Allow me to answer your question. What if the Ace had blood on it, and that was the reason?" I posed.

"The reason for…?"

"For the real killer to take the card from the scene of the crime," Dad added, realizing what had just happened.

"Where are you going with this?" the judge asked.

"Take another look at the second photo," I said as it came on screen. "At the victim's head. When he was hit, his hat fell off… and a trickle of blood ran from his forehead down the back of his head. Couldn't a drop of that blood have fallen on one of the cards?" I explained.

"I suppose…" the Judge said. I smirked.

"Then the killer took the card to hide the blood," I explained.

" _Objection!_ " Gavin yelled. "R-regardless! That evidence is non-permissible!"

"Oh?" I asked.

"Wright! Regardless of how you wasted the last seven years, you used to be a lawyer! You know what a serious crime it is to conceal evidence! Didn't you teach your son this!?" Gavin demanded, sweating bullets.

"Oh, we can discuss the finder points of our legal system later… What's important now is that we've answered your question," Dad said.

"Wh-what are you talking about?" Gavin asked.

"You wanted to know why the killer would have taken a card from the scene, and we've told you. That one drop of blood would have been decisive evidence," I explained.

" _Objection!"_ Gavin's voice was starting to show panic. "Th-this is… baseless conjecture! Baseless!"

" _Objection!"_ Dad yelled. "Oh, I assure you it's quite based."

"Wh-what!?"

"It's amazing, really. How a single drop of blood on a single card can lead us… to the truth. It's quite simple. Well, Apollo? With everything we've said so far, isn't there a problem with the scene of the crime?" Dad asked.

"Yes," I said, already knowing where this was going. It was one of the things I realized during the last recess. "The victim's position is wrong," I announced.

"I don't follow your logic, Mr. Wright," the judge said.

"Well… Look The victim was struck on the head, sending him _back_ in his chair. You'd think any blood would fall behind the body, not onto the table in front of him," I explained.

"Ah!" the Judge gasped.

"Take a look at the photo again. If he bled in this position… the blood would fall _on the floor,_ not on the cards," I explained.

"Why, that's right! So… what does this mean?" the Judge asked.

"It means, with them in swivel chairs, the victim was facing this way!" I explained, turning the victim's chair around on the interactive recreation of the crime scene.

"The chair was facing the _other way!?_ " the Judge gasped.

"It would have to be. So, we have to assume that at the time of the murder… the victim's chair was facing away from the table!"

"When the defendant returned from informing the police, which way was the chair facing?" the Judge demanded.

"When I cam back to the room, the body was facing as seen in this photo," Dad said, motioning to the crime scene picture.

"That would mean the killer turned the chair back around," I said. I put a finger to my forehead. "But then, with the victim facing _away_ from the table at the time of the murder, another contradiction arises," I said.

"A-again!?" Payne gasped.

"Yes." I looked at the crime scene recreation. The victim – Smith – was now facing the cabinet, the table at his back. The killer – Dad, supposedly – sat at the other end of the table, and the first witness – Olga Orly – between them. The second witness – supposedly Gavin – was outside of the room, at the door, and the third witness indicator – myself – on the stairs. "The killer's location now doesn't make sense. After all, wouldn't it be hard for the killer to hit him from the front, sitting where his indicator currently is?" I said.

"I would think it'd be quite hard, yes," Dad said, seeming to enjoy himself.

" _Objection!"_ Payne yelled. "Yes, but what you're saying makes no sense! Why would the victim suddenly turn to face the wall… in the middle of a game!?" he demanded.

"I believe a sufficient reason will soon come to light," Dad said.

"Wh-what!?"

"There's something in this diagram that makes far less sense, actually. Look again at the diagram. Apollo, if the victim was struck while he was sitting as shown here… where would his assailant be standing. Mark it on the diagram," Dad said. I smirked, thinking to all of the Hydeout's 'features' Dad had mentioned earlier.

"Here," I said, marking just in front of the victim, the cupboard.

" _Objection!_ " Payne yelled. "You get points for flair, but that's about all you get."

"Oh?" I asked with a smirk.

"I hardly need to point out that standing there would be impossible. The victim is facing a solid cupboard! Or are you claiming the killer climbed the cupboard and hit him from above? Hah!"

"That's not at all what I'm claiming, Mr. Payne," I said, crossing my arms. "Simply, that the cupboard was moved!" _And the killer used the secret passage behind it…_

"What's this now!?" the Judge gasped.

"That's the only explanation! Right, Mr. Gavin?" I said, looking at the man, who simply glared at Dad and myself.

"Your Honor! I have a suggestion for the defense. We should arrange to examine the cupboard in the Hydeout immediately!" Dad announced.

"Bailiff! Send a team to the crime scene immediately! Have them try to move the cupboard!" the Judge called.

"Ah, Your Honor?" Phoenix called.

"What?"

"There's one more thing your men should look for. Please give this to the bailiff," he said, holding up a folded piece of paper. The bailiff took it, handing it to the curious Judge, who read it before looking surprised.

"Hmm…? Mmm, yes… I see. You do belong in the courtroom after all, Mr. Wright," he said, looking at my Dad, who looked away with a sad smile.

"I do my best." He looked up. "But let's forge ahead here while we wait. Apollo?" he said, looking at me.

"Right. If we move the cupboard the only way it could have gone…" I moved the cupboard to the side in the recreation. "Another contradiction arises!" I announced.

"What!?" Payne exclaimed.

"If the cupboard was here at the time of the crime, it would completely _cover up the window to the stairs!"_ I explained.

"Aaah!" the Judge gasped.

"That's right! Someone standing outside wouldn't be able to see in. Someone… like Mr. Gavin!" I said.

"What… what did you say?" Gavin demanded.

"Oh? Is the 'Coolest Defense in the West' losing his cool?" Dad said.

"Nnk…!" Gavin gasped, before adjusting his glasses. "Don't expect me to play along with your little game, Wright," he growled.

"It's only a game until someone gets killed, Mr. Gavin. And someone was… while the window to that room was blocked but a cupboard," Dad replied. Gavin stayed silent.

"So, My Gavin. Perhaps you'd like to explain to the court. Where did you witness the crime scene from?" I asked.

"Nnn… Nnnk!" Gavin growled, clutching at his suit sleeves.

Just then, the court doors opened, and the bailiff burst in. "Excuse me, Your Honor!" he called.

"Order!" the Judge yelled, slamming his gavel. "This is a court of law and I will have order!"

"We… we just now received word from our investigative team at the Borscht Bowl Club," the Bailiff said. "They've examined the cupboard in the Hydeout, Your Honor!"

"Oh…? And what did they find?" the Judge asked.

"Well, Your Honor… it turns out there is a secret passage behind it!" he said. I crossed my arms with a smirk.

"Whaaaaat!?" the Judge gasped.

"Ah yes. I believe I mentioned something of the sort before. This is one of the tricks to the room many of our regulars know about…" Dad said. "A secret passage is a handy thing to have when you're engaged in illegal goings-on. Never know when you might need to duck away from the eyes of the law."

"And the other side of the passage connects to the restaurant above," I said. "The underworld bosses could get away from the cops… and enjoy a cold bowl of borscht." I shook my head. "This leads us to the killer. At the time of the murder, the window was blocked and the victim's hat.. was only off his head for a few minutes between Mr. Smith's murder… and Mr. Wright's return from calling the cops. In other words, the only place anyone could've seen the victim's bald head… was from _inside_ the Hydeout!" I explained, before turning to the man on the witness stand. "Well, Mr. Gavin?" I demanded, but Gavin simply stayed silent.

"Hmm… Dare I ask what really happened that night?" the Judge said.

"Actually, I think we can probably figure it out ourselves at this point," I said. "That night, for whatever reason, Our killer had a date with Mr. Smith… a date with destiny. He returned to the Club when it was still early and crowded, meaning I didn't notice him, and entered the secret passage, where he crouched, hidden behind the cupboard… holding his breath, waiting for just the right moment… Then the chance came… and he took it! Ms. Olga Orly was out cold, struck by Mr. Smith… But his time was soon to come. Dad went upstairs to cal the cops. Leaving Mr. Shadi Smith alone in the Hydeout with the unconscious dealer. Then our killer stepped out from the secret passage and into the Hydeout," I explained.

"The victim must have heard the cupboard sliding aside," Dad said.

"He wheeled the chair around to look, and met his end," I said grimly.

"…After the deed was done, the criminal must have seen the blood on the card. He would have, of course, realized the need to destroy the evidence. That single spot of blood told the whole story of the crime," Dad said.

"Too bad for him he didn't linger any longer in the Hydeout that night. If he had, he might have noticed the cards on the floor… and the fact that they were all _red!_ " I finished.

"Nnnrgk!" Gavin… I can't even describe the noises he was making.

"Well, it seems this trial… has taken yet another turn. I'm truly, truly sorry I had to see this day come, Mr. Gavin," the Judge said. Gavin didn't answer.

"Mr. Gavin?" I asked.

"Mr. Payne!" the Judge said, causing the prosecutor to jump with a strangled, started sound. Trying to retain dignity, he cleared his throat.

"Yes, Your Honor?"

"The prosecution will continue its investigation! As for Mr. Phoenix Wright, the defendant, he is hereby cleared of all suspicion," the Judge announced. Payne made another interesting noise at this announcement. "Believe me when I say that I don't believe this is happening, Mr. Gavin. But, I'm afraid circumstances call for me to issue a warrant for your arrest. Immediately."

" _Objection!_ " Gavin yelled. "Oh, no need to apologize. I rather enjoyed myself. It's not every day you get to witness a legendary attorney's dirty tactics first hand… though it's sad to see the apple didn't fall too far from the tree," he said. I ground my teeth together, and Dad put a hand on my shoulder.

"Your point, Mr. Gavin?" Dad demanded.

"Frankly, Your Honor, I'm shocked. That a person of your caliber would be taken in by such a low-grade parlor trick…" Gavin shook his head.

' _Low-grade parlor trick'!?_ I was highly offended by that.

"Erm… excuse me?" the Judge asked.

"The defendant is 'cleared of all suspicion'…? This is hardly the time for jokes, Your Honor. Mr. Wright hasn't proven anyone's guilt or innocence here. What he has done is use illegal evidence to put the blame on someone else!" Gavin said.

"I-illegal evidence?" the Judge gasped.

" _Objection!"_ I yelled. "By illegal evidence, I assume you speak of this card?" I asked, holding up my card again, the back facing the court.

"Exactly. That card was not found by the police, thus it must be a fake, meaning you presented false evidence in your first trial, Wright," Gavin said. I smirked.

"I never presented this card as evidence."

"What!?" Gavin gasped.

"I was simply playing with it while I thought over your question, Mr. Gavin. I never actually presented it," I explained.

"Why… he's right!" the Judge gasped.

"B-but the blood spot!" Payne said. I smirked and slowly turned the card to face them. It was the Ace of Spades, with a red circle to the side of the spade. It was sun, and inside, in white, stylized letters forming my initials, 'AW.'

"It's my signature as a magician. Dad might suck at playing the piano, but he's a great artist, and he designed this for me. It's red, of course, considering that's my favorite color," I explained, motioning to my attire. "But that's not the important part. I never presented this… yet you implicated yourself, Mr. Gavin."

…

 _With a sigh, I placed my deck on the bench and drew the top card, twirling it slowly in my hand in thought. "Hmm? Perhaps you can show us a reas—" Gavin cut off, staring at the card in my hand. "Wh-whaaaaat!? Wh-what… what is that!?" he nearly roared._

" _This? It's an Ace of Spades, Mr. Gavin," I said._

"Objection _!" he yelled. "Impossible! Unacceptable! The court can't accept this evidence! It's a fraud! The fifth ace should not exist!"_

…

Gavin frowned, before smirking. "The Defense still has yet to prove the defendant's innocence," he said, though it was clear he was worried.

" _Objection!"_ Dad yelled. "Let me ask you, Mr. Gavin… is there sill any reason, at present, to suspect me of wrongdoing?" Dad asked.

"Of course. The bottle, for instance," Gavin said.

"The bottle of grape juice Dad was drinking…" I muttered.

"How do you intend to explain away the fingerprints on the murder weapon? And not just any fingerprints, am I right, Mr. Payne?" Gavin said.

"Er, a-actually, yes. The fingerprints on this bottle were, erm, _upside-down_ …" Payne replied.

Just then the final piece of the puzzle, something that bothered me from the beginning, clicked into place.

"The court, and this case, demand an explanation. I can think of only one reason why one would hold a bottle upside-down… and that is to hit someone with the bottom of the bottle. Well, Your Honor?" Gavin said.

"Hmm…!" the Judge hummed, seeming to agree with Gavin's assessment.

"Ah, see how the caught fish squirms to the last… well, Apollo?" Dad asked.

"Right!" I said, slamming my fists onto the bench. "The defense asserts there is another reason, though it'll be easier to show you then explain, Your Honor," I said. "Place that bottle on the floor, next to your chair."

"Excuse me? On the floor?" he said, doing as I said. I crossed my arms with a smirk.

"Yes. Now, reach down and pick it up… without getting out of your chair."

"Ah…!" Payne gasped as the Judge did as I said. Even he looked surprised at his own actions. He was holding the bottle, by the neck, upside-down, just as Dad's fingerprints were.

"See? You naturally go to pick up the bottle by its neck… with you fingers upside-down! Look at this photograph taken on the night of the murder," I said as the picture Olga took, of Dad and Zak at the table, appeared on screen. "The defendant, Mr. Wright, sat here… playing piano, bottle of grape juice on the _floor_ to the side of his piano bench. He would have naturally picked up the bottles upside-down several times," I explained.

"Wow! I can't believe it was that simple!" the Judge gasped.

"Recall our dinner that evening, Kristoph," Dad said. Gavin didn't answer, so he continued. "I was drinking my usual juice then, too."

"Basically… you used the bottle on the table to do the deed… but then you must have remembered! So you went and picked up one of the bottles from under the piano… and you switched the bottles! You took one of Mr. Wright's bottles and made it look like the murder weapon!" I said. The gallery erupted.

"Order! Order! Order! What do you have to say to these charges, Mr. Gavin?" the Judge demanded.

"Fascinating… So this is the legendary attorney's famed tactic of misdirection. Tell me though, Wright. If you were in the club, as you claimed to be, wouldn't you have seen me?" Gavin asked. I crossed my arms.

"I was sitting at the bar, that's true. But… I wasn't there every single minute of the whole time Dad was downstairs. I had to use the restroom once, and returned to the bar just before Dad came upstairs," I explained. Gavin flinched, before shrugging, shaking his head.

"Fine. You claim that I switched the bottle? Where is your proof?" he demanded.

"Well…" I hummed.

"As I thought. More baseless conjecture. I'm afraid your 'bottle' of proof is quite empty…" Gavin said with a smirk

" _Objection!_ " Dad yelled. "I wouldn't be so sure about that." He turned to the Judge. "Your Honor. When you initiated the investigation of the Hydeout earlier… do you recall I requested an _additional_ investigation?" Dad asked.

"Ah, yes, I have your memo about that here. 'Retrieve the bottles from under the piano at the Borscht Bowl Club,'" he read, before motioning to the bailiff. "And here's one of the bottles in question," he said as the officer bought it over to me. I quickly pulled on a pair of gloves.

"Hmph! What, are you going to dust that for fingerprints, too? I would be surprised if any were on that but his," Gavin said.

 _He probably wouldn't make such a novice mistake, true… but there has to be something!_

"Say, Apollo…" Dad mumbled and I studied the bottle.

"Hm?"

"Why don't you go ahead and examine that bottle," he said. I looked up at him.

"No, Dad, I thought I'd just stare at it," I said sarcastically. He chuckled at me, and I returned my attention to the bottle. I carefully picked it up and held it to the light to see through the colored glass… and gasped.

"There's something inside the bottle!" I announced. "A card…"

"Th-that card…! It can't be…!" Gavin gasped.

"Recall that unpleasant woman's testimony for a moment…" Dad said.

"Er, Ms. Olga Orly?" I asked.

"Yes, our little swindling devotchka," he replied, butchering the Russian word. I thought back on her testimony…

"W-wait, this isn't…! You're telling me that this is the planted card you 'disposed of'?" I asked.

"The Five of Hearts… this is the card!" Dad announced. "The bottles were swapped. And the only one who could have done that was the fourth person in the room that night. You, Mr. Kristoph Gavin," Dad announced. Everyone was silent for a moment. "That is all."

"Is… this your idea of revenge, Phoenix Wright?" Gavin demanded, obviously unraveling. Quickly.

"Revenge…?" the Judge asked.

"Revenge for the events that took away your attorney's badge seven years ago!" Gavin snapped. I felt like I was kicked in the gut.

 _This whole case… everything in this entire case connects back to the one of seven years ago! Why!? Why does it have to keep coming up!? And… what did Gavin have to do with Dad loosing his badge? It was all Zak's fault, after all!_

"I believe this time we've finally come to the end of our trial. Mr. Payne… do you have a report for us on Kristoph Gavin?" the Judge asked.

"…He's admitted everything. We're processing his arrest now," Payne said.

"I see. Still, one has to wonder why he would do such a thing… he didn't even have a connection to the victim… did he?"

 _Yes…_ I thought solemnly.

"Er… none that we know of," Payne said.

"Mr. Wright… er… Phoenix Wright," the Judge said, "do you have anything to add?"

"…I'm afraid I can't shed any more light on the matter," Dad said.

"About this victim, Mr. Shadi Smith… his occupation was listed as 'traveler'… and odd profession to be sure, and that's all we know about him!" the Judge said.

"…I'll arrange a follow-up investigation, Your Honor," Payne said.

"Good. Mr. Phoenix Wright?"

"Yes?"

"Seven years… and you still haven't lost your touch," the Judge said, shaking his head.

"Kristoph Gavin… was a man with much significance for me. Both as a friend… and a lawyer," Dad said.

"He was extremely talented, to be sure," the Judge said.

"I needed two things before I could confront him: the first was a place where no injustice would be tolerated… this courtroom. The second was a man who would tolerate no injustice… in other words, a defense attorney." He smiled warmly, slinging an arm around my shoulders. "I just never thought it would be my own son," he said proudly. I grinned at that, a warm feeling flowing through me.

I loved making Dad proud.

Dad sighed, growing serious once more. "A dark time is coming for our legal system," he said. "A twisting of justice brought on by our very own court system. We have to set it right."

"Dad…"

"Our work lies ahead of us… and I, for one, am looking forward to it," he added with a smile.

"Well, this seems like a good time to announce a verdict. This court finds the defendant, Mr. Phoenix Wright… _Not Guilty!_ Court is adjourned.

…

"Thanks, kiddo. You came through, just like I thought you would," Dad said, slinging an arm around me. I smiled, though I was still troubled. Not just by the case (though that was a huge part of it), but also by Dad's words.

 _A… twisting of justice? That doesn't sound good…_

"Daddy! Polly!" Trucy called, and suddenly, Dad was tackled by a flying hug. He stumbled back, catching her with a laugh.

"Hey there, Truce! You act like it's been months!" he said, and Trucy just grinned, hopping back.

"I have something to show you!" she said, pulling something out of her bag. "Because Polly's a lawyer now, I thought we should do something!" She pulled out a flier, handing it to me and Dad. It looked like one of the fliers for the talent agency… except this one had an Attorney's badge on it, and the name was different.

"'The Wright _Anything_ Agency'?" I read.

"Yep! You need talent? BAM! We're there! You need a lawyer? BAM! We're there! You need your toilet scrubbed? BAM! Apollo's there!"

"Hey!" I complained, while Dad laughed at us.

…

 **A/N:** Sorry for any mistakes and typos… I'm going to go curl up in the corner and die now…. Ugh…


	15. 13: Solace

**A/N:** Another chapter! This one's shorter, as it's between cases right now.

ONWARD!

…

Chapter 13: Solace  


 _May_

I studied my ancient laptop, my fingers tapping away at the keyboard as I tried to find something. Anything.

Shadi Smith.

Shadi Enigmar.

Zak Gramarye.

Thalassa Gramarye.

Kristoph Gavin.

I tried to search each of these names, but was coming up with about as much success as before. Both Shadi Smith and Enigmar hardly came up with anything, except one or two small articles detailing their court cases. Zak Gramarye only bought up articles about Troupe Gramarye, as well as Thalassa Gramarye.

Kristoph Gavin… bought up articles about his various victories in court, and a smattering about his downfall a month ago, but nothing… _nothing_ tying him to Zak, or Shadi. I slammed my fist down on my desk, before groaning, dropping my forehead onto my keyboard.

"Polly…?" Trucy asked softly. I looked up.

"Ever hear of knocking?" I snapped, looked up with a frown. She sighed softly, looking down, and I suddenly felt really bad. "I… sorry, Squirt," I said. She shook her head, turning to leave. I considered letting her go, but everything inside of me resisted that.

"Trucy… wait," I said.

"You seemed like you wanted to be alone, Apollo. I'm sorry for bothering you," she said, before going to close the door. I quickly stood and drew her into the room, closing my laptop as I did so. She looked up at me in surprise.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you, Trucy," I said sincerely. "I just… have a lot on my mind."

"I know," she said, hugging me. "You have since that case last month. Polly…" She looked up at me, and I could tell she wasn't upset anymore from the nickname. "What… what is it about that case that has you so… I dunno, spooked?" she asked. I hesitated for a moment. With how much Trucy still loved Zak, Dad and I decided it would be better if she didn't know the real identity of Shadi Smith.

Which means she didn't know how connected that case was to the one seven years ago.

"It's… Mr. Gavin. I just can't figure out why he killed Smith and tried to frame Dad. After all, they were supposed to be friends, right?" I said. Trucy looked at me, but I knew wasn't lying. I was just… withholding the truth…

She looked down with a sigh. "I think Daddy is upset too," she said. "Though… I think it's more because of how… withdrawn you've become, Polly," she said. I jolted slightly.

"W-withdrawn?" I asked. Trucy nodded.

"Yeah. You… stay in your room a lot. Ever since the trial." She looked down, her shoulders slumped. I thought back over the past month. _Have I…?_

"Even Clay has said so," Dad said, suddenly appearing in my doorway. I jumped slightly at that, and he smiled weakly at me. "I invited Maya and Pearl to dinner tonight," he said. "I hope you two don't mind."

"Will we be eating Eldoon Noodles?" Trucy asked brightly.

"Yep. And hamburgers," Dad added.

 _There's a winning combination._

"Then I don't mind!" Trucy said brightly.

"Apollo?" Dad asked. I smiled slightly.

"Of course I don't mind," I said. He nodded.

"Good. Mind going to Eldoon's, Kiddo?" he said, and I gave pent to a sigh.

"Of course not. Five servings?" I asked.

"Apollo… it's Maya."

"Right. Seven it is then."

"Good. Maya has a stomach just for ramen! And another for burgers," Trucy said brightly.

 _Huh?_

"Hey, Daddy. Speaking of Maya, is she going to be our new Mommy?" Trucy asked as I picked my wallet up from my nightstand.

"Trucy!" I gasped, dropping my wallet again. Dad just laughed at that, patting Trucy's shoulder and walking out.

…

"I'm back!" I called as I stepped into the apartment. The smell of hamburgers filled the apartment, as did the excitable voice of one Ms. Maya Fey.

"Hi, Apollo!" Sixteen year old Pearls said brightly, darting over to take half of the food from me. I chuckled.

"Thanks," I said with a small smile.

"How are you?" she asked, sounding almost tentative.

"I'm good, Pearls," I said with a small smile. She smiled back. "You?"

"I'm good. Training hard," she replied. I nodded.

"Sounds good," I said, putting the stuff food on the table which was already full of bags from the local burger joint. I was suddenly enveloped in a hug.

"Apollo!" Maya squealed from where she had me in a death grip.

"Good… to see… you too…" I gasped. She suddenly let me go, and I gasped for air.

"Come sit, Apollo. We saved you some burgers," Dad said. I smiled weakly at him, plopping down in my chair and looking over at Trucy and Pearls.

"Come on, Pearls, pleeeeeeeeaaaaaaaase?" Trucy begged.

"I-I don't know, Trucy," the spirit-medium said, rubbing the back of her head.

"It's not like I'm asking you to put your neck on the line or anything. It's just a double date," Trucy said. My head snapped up from where I was unwrapping my burger.

"What?" Dad asked.

"A date?" I demanded.

"Aww! I think that's a great idea, Pearly!" Maya exclaimed.

"Y-you do!?" Pearls gasped.

"And he's totally crushing on you!" Trucy replied.

"But… what about you?" Pearls asked.

"Oh, don't worry. I'll be there too, with my own date."

" _ **OBJECTION!"**_ I yelled, only to look over at Dad, who was also standing, having shouted at the same time.

"Daddy? Polly?" Trucy asked, looking between in confusion. "What's wrong. It's just dinner." She put a finger to her chin. "And I was just going to show him my panties…"

" _What!?_ " I gasped, lurching back.

" _ **HOLD IT!**_ Trucy! I thought you knew better then that!" Dad said. Loudly.

 _And I thought my Chords of Steel were powerful…_

"What are you talking about, Daddy? I show off my magic panties on stage all the time!" she said, producing a pair of powder blue bloomers with pink hearts from who knows where. I let out a sigh, and Dad deflated, his arm dropping back to his side. Maya, who had watched the entire thing, burst out laughing.

"Oh my gosh, Nick! You should have seen your face!" she said between laughs. "And you, Apollo—" she cut off from laughing to hard, and I scowled at her. Dad shook his head, his cheeks still a little red.

"Leave it. Eat your hamburgers, Apollo," Dad said. I huffed, but sat, doing so. Trucy and Maya finally managed to talk Pearls into the double date. I was actually a little grateful for this. With Pearls there, nothing… too bad would happen. Pearls was too much of a goody-too-shoes for the kind of thoughts a teenage boy would have, meaning she'll stop anything as soon as it starts.

Maya looked ecstatic. Dad looked unhappy… and like he was plotting. I go the feeling he was going to ask one of his connections to look into the boys.

"So, Apollo!" Maya suddenly said. "I heard your first case was a suspenseful, exciting Turnabout, worthy of one of your father's old cases. What'd you think?" she asked. I sighed, my spikes drooping.

"I felt like I was drowning the whole time," I admitted, much to their amusement.

"Really, Polly? That's not what it looked like," Trucy said. "And I'm sure that's not what you're writing in your journal…" she added slyly. I gasped, heat flaring into my cheeks.

"Journal, what journal?" I demanded before realizing my voice was just a little too quick. Trucy started laughing, and even Pearls giggled a little.

"Look, Squirts! I'll get you back somehow!" I said, pointing at the girls, who laughed hard. I huffed, before darting around the table, grabbing them both in headlocks.

"H-hey, Apollo!"

"P-Polly!"

Both were laughing as they struggled to get free. A few minutes later, I somehow wound up on the ground, Trucy sitting on my back. Pearls sat to the side, giggling.

"Alright, kids, stop playing around and sit at the table," Dad said.

"But Daddy! He started it!" Trucy simpered.

"I don't care who started it, I'm ending it," Dad said with a mock stern tone in his voice. I couldn't help but laugh at it as we all got up and sat at the table again.

"So, Nick. Watch the latest episode of the Mercury Samurai?" Maya asked. Dad chuckled.

"I'm still working on the Silver Samurai, Maya. I've been kind of busy recently," he admitted, and I looked up, realizing this to be true. For the past few weeks, Dad has been out a lot, doing something 'important.' At times, I've entertained the idea of a secret girlfriend, but that was just so… _unlike Dad._

The rest of dinner went much the same way. Maya and Dad bickered half the time, while me and the girls made faces at each other. It almost felt like how it was before the trial.

But, as I helped clear away hamburger wrappers and noodle containers, I started getting that feeling again. The kind where my chest tightens slightly, and all of the chatter starts to become to much for me. I threw out what was in my arms and went over, putting a hand on Dad's arm.

"Dad…"

"Yeah, Kiddo?"

"Mind if I… uh… go for a walk?" I asked. He studied me for a moment before sighing, ruffling my hair.

"Not at all, Apollo. Just don't stay out too late," he said. I chuckled, a small part of me appreciating that he still treated me like I was a kid, before heading out.

As soon as I was out in the warm, May air, the thoughts I held back began to crowd my brain again.

 _How was Gavin and Zak connected? Was Gavin connected to Grandfather? Or Valant? I know Zak fired him as his attorney over a stupid card game, but I doubt that'd be enough to warrant killing the man. So… why? What was the motive? And now, with Zak and Grandfather gone, Gavin, who apparently was connected, arrested, and Uncle Valant missing… who can I ask about Mom?_

"A-Apollo?" a panting voice suddenly filtered into my consciousness. I looked up, and was surprised to find myself face to face with Clay.

His face was drenched in sweat, as was his blue muscle shirt. A pair of headphones were draped around his neck, and he was holding a bottle of water.

"Hey, Clay. Working out?" I asked, sliding aside on the bench I was sitting on ( _when did that happen?_ ).

"Yep: Endurance Training. I'm in the middle of my Exams, after all," he said, flopping down. I noticed him casting a weary glance at me from the corner of his eye, and sighed, remembering what Dad had said earlier.

"I'm sorry that I've been a bit… withdrawn this past month," I said, looking down and leaning forward, elbows on knees.

"Nah, it's alright." Clay wrapped an arm around me. "That trial was pretty messed up."

"More then you know."

"Hm?"

"Clay… Shadi Smith's real name… was Shadi Enigmar," I said. Clay frowned, putting a hand to his chin in thought.

"Enigmar… Enigmar… where have I heard that name before?" he muttered.

"It was mine and Trucy's before we were adopted by Phoenix Wright," I said.

"Wait— _what!?_ " Clay gasped, dropping his hands. I nodded.

"Yeah."

"So… Shadi Enigmar… Zak Gramarye… is dead."

"And not just missing anymore."

"Does Trucy know?" Clay asked, his arm tightening around me. I shook my head.

"No. Dad and I… thought it was for the best," I said. Clay nodded.

"Makes sense. Aw, man, Apollo, I'm sorry. It's no wonder your emotions were running so high in court that day," he said.

"You weren't there… were you?" I asked, looking up.

"No. Classes, remember? But since the case was solved, they released the recording of it online," he said. I nodded.

"Right." I leaned against him.

"Zak's death is really bothering you, huh?" Clay asked.

"Yes," I admitted, closing my eyes. Before I realized it, I was telling him everything. All of my investigating, all of my suspicions, about Mom, my anger, my doubt… and the thoughts that plagued me everyday since the trial.

Clay stayed silent, listening to me, until I buried my face in his shoulder, falling quiet and trembling from way too much emotion. He rubbed my back, and the silence stretched on for a bit longer, until finally, my shaking subsided.

"How do you feel?" Clay asked.

"Horrible," I muttered against his shoulder, and he chuckled.

"I know what'll make you feel better," he said, pulling back. I sat up straight and watched as he stood.

"I'M CLAY TERRAN, AND I'M FINE!" he yelled, before looking at me expectantly. I chuckled weakly and stood.

"I'M APOLLO WRIGHT, AND I'M FINE!"

"I'M CLAY TERRAN, AND I'M FINE!"

"I'M APOLLO WRIGHT, AND I'M FINE!"

We took turns until I was laughing too hard to continue. Clay grinned, wrapping an arm around me.

"Better?"

"Better."

"Good. I'll always be here for you, 'kay Apollo? Don't ever hesitate to come talk to me," he said.

"Not always," I said, softly.

"Huh?"

"When you go up into space, block head!" I explained, and he laughed.

"We'll figure something out," he said, giving my shoulder a light punch. "Tell you want. Once this week is up, and exams are over, you and me will have a sci-fi binge," he said. I grinned.

"Sounds good, Clay. Go get 'em," I said. He grinned, putting his headphones back on, and sprinted off. I smiled after him, flopping back onto the bench for a few minutes before heading home, part of me wishing I had spoken to Clay sooner.

He was just the pick-me-upper I needed.

…

 **A/N:** Okay, lets see here…

Apollo's okay, no worries!

Maya's multiple stomachs theory just had to make an appearance. I couldn't help myself!

Trucy's a MayaxPhoenix shipper. Blame Pearl.

The whole part about Trucy and Pearl dating was added when I was almost done. I thought of it today while I was doing other things, hehe.

"Eat your hamburgers, Apollo" was done on purpose (the semi-famous meme from Awkward Zombie's _Culture Schlock_ comic).

You all probably hate me for that tiny piece of foreshadowing to DD, but… it just presented itself perfectly. I couldn't help it.

Next chapter is Turnabout Corner!


	16. 14: The Quadruple Crime

**A/N:** Hey guys! Guess who's back! This is the start of Turnabout Corner. I hope you all enjoy it!

I also hope you guys don't mind EmaxApollo.

 **Review Reply to Gamergirl:** I'm glad I have a few more planned then! I love seeing Apollo and Clay together as well. I hope I change Turnabout Corner enough to make it enjoyable for you!

Now, FORWARD!

…

Chapter Fourteen: The Quadruple Crime

 _June_

I sighed, lounging across the couch, a Law Journal propped against my knees. It's been two months since my first, and only, case, and I was going out of my mind.

 _I guess I shouldn't be surprised. After all, who would want a lawyer from a place called the 'Wright_ Anything _Agency?' And beyond that, what law firm would want to hire someone raised-slashed-mentored by the disgraced Phoenix Wright?_ I thought, turning the page. _Even if I was the top of my class…_

A sigh escaped me, and I dropped my head back against the arm of the couch.

"AHHH!" Trucy suddenly screamed from the other room. I launched off the couch, the journal flying and forgotten.

"Trucy!?" I yelled, running into the other room. She was standing at the window, sticking her head out.

"Hey! Get back here, Panty Thief!" she yelled.

"WHAT!?" I gasped, darting over and spotting the man she was yelling after, before running out the apartment, taking the steps three at a time to the first floor. I shot out the building and looked around, spotting the panty thief.

The tall, skinny man glanced back just as my eyes locked on him. I couldn't see much of his features, but I could see the fabric he held in his hand.

"HEY! YOU!" I yelled, taking off after him. He turned forward again, trying to run faster. I lengthened my own strides, pushing myself faster, suddenly thankful that Clay had gotten me to help him with his endurance training this last month.

The panty thief whipped around a corner into an alley way, and I followed him. A tiny part of my mind knew this was stupid. How did I know if the man was dangerous or not? But I didn't care.

This man disrespected my little sister.

There was a crash as the man knocked over a trashcan, into my path. I didn't have enough warning to jump it though, and slammed to the ground with a grunt as my legs hit it. I pushed myself up, winded, and to my feet, chasing after him again once I caught my breath.

I turned out of the alleyway, and stopped, looking around. I was in front of Eldoon Noodle's house, and the Meraktis Clinic. I walked slowly over to the open garage of the clinic and looked in. Inside was a green sports car… but no Panty Thief. Standing up straight, I looked around before letting out a frustrated sigh.

I lost him.

With a soft sigh, I returned back to the apartment. Trucy was pacing around the apartment, on her cell.

"Oh wait! He just walked in!" Trucy said, before darting over to me, holding the phone out.

"Huh?"

"It's Hickfield Clinic…" she said, her eyes wide. I noticed they were even glassy.

"What's wrong?" I demanded, reaching for the phone.

"D-Daddy… he—" More tears welled into her eyes, and I snatched the phone, suddenly feeling like I was submerged into ice water.

"Hello!?" I demanded.

"Hi, Mr. Wright? This is Nurse Esrun from Hickfield Clinic. We admitted your father about twenty minutes ago."

 _Dad!? He should have been walking to work, and…_

"Mr. Wright?"

"I-I'm here. Dad, is he okay?" I gripped the phone tighter, pressing it closer to my ear. "He… what happened?"

"He's alright, Mr. Wright. His life is not in danger, and he admitted himself, to be honest," the nurse explained in a soothing tone. I relaxed.

"Alright. Thank you. We'll be there soon," I said, hanging up and giving the phone back to Trucy. I then put my hands on her shoulders.

"Dad's okay. He admitted himself, and his life's not in danger," I said. He shoulders slumped in relief.

"Good. I got really… scared," she admitted. I smiled slightly.

"Same here. Come on, let's get to the clinic," I said, leading her out and to my bike.

…

 _So… this is Dad's hospital…_ I thought as we walked into the room. Trucy had insisted on bringing Dad's toy, pink piano, so he could 'practice,' and I was holding a bottle of his favorite grape juice.

We had tied a wagon to my bike. I had never been so embarrassed, but thankfully, it was the middle of the night.

"Eh? Visitors are ya? Hrmm?" a voice suddenly said off to our left. Turning, I found myself face to face with an old man who was wearing a stethoscope and white doctor's coat. He had a large grin full of gaps between his teeth, and a pinkish-purple tuft of hair just above his forehead.

"Uh, yeah. Are you the… doctor?" I asked hesitantly.

"Ayup. Dr. Hickfield's the name," he said with a creepy laugh.

"Good morning, Doctor!" Trucy chirped.

"Oh, hiya there, girly. Aren't you cute!" he said with a huge grin, making a creepy motion with his hands. I wrapped an arm around Trucy, my eyes narrowing.

"Is… this Daddy's room?" Trucy asked in an oblivious tone that concerned me.

"Oh yah. 'Cept he's gone for a checkup. Be back soon. How're you, Miss? God any places you'd like… examined? Eh heh…" the 'doctor' asked. My arm tightened, and I opened my mouth.

"Doctor…" Dad suddenly said from behind us. I jumped slightly, looking back. Dad was standing behind us, his weight resting mostly on a crutch. "The nurse was looking for you."

"Why, it is isn't the Daddy o' the cutest lil' thing in town! Hrm. Hrmm. Guess I'll be off then. Eh he? Later, cutie," the man said before leaving.

"Wow," I scowled. "What an odd bird that guy was."

"Hey, kids," Dad said, limping over to the bed and sitting. He noticed the bottle of juice and piano and smiled. "How thoughtful. Thank you," he said with a warm smile, carefully lifting a bandaged foot onto the bed. Trucy and I pulled up seats.

"So… what happened, Dad?" I asked, my worry seeping into my voice.

"…Who could have imagined it?" he started, and I could sense that dramatic, storytelling tone creeping into his voice. "Me, victim of a hit and run…"

"A hit and…" my heart stopped for a moment before I stood. "You were hit by a car!?" I demanded.

"Oh, he tried to swerve, I'll give him that. Picture me tossed thirty feet through the air… only stopping when my head hit that telephone pole," Dad said offhandedly. I spluttered at that, able to perfectly imagine it.

"You hit a telephone pole with your head!?" I demanded. "Are you okay!?"

"Thankfully," he grinned at us. "My only injury was a sprained ankle," he said, waving a careless hand at his foot. I dropped back into the seat, suddenly emotionally drained.

 _Heh… he really is as luck as those stories made it seem…_

"I was thinking, Apollo… it's about time you had a client again," Dad said. Now that I knew he was okay, that definitely caught my interest.

"A client!? Who?" I asked.

"Here, take a look at the map and I'll explain," he said, pulling a piece of paper from his nightstand and unfolding it for me. I leaned closer, studying it, surprised to recognize the streets right around the Wright Anything Agency. "Last night, I left and was heading to work, as you know. That's when it happened! The car sent me flying, nicked a telephone pole… and zoomed away. Creepy, huh?" he said.

"Just a tad," I admitted. "It's almost as creepy as hearing you tell the story like it was no big deal."

"The car sped off in this direction…" he said, trailing his finger along a road. "So, good luck!"

"…Huh?"

"You wanted a client, didn't you? Well, I'm you client! …Again. Find the guy who knocked me into that telephone pole!"

"Whoa, hold on, Dad! I'm a defense attorney, not a detective!" I protested.

"Don't worry. Once you've found the guy, I intend to sue him. Then you can stick it to him in court!" Dad replied.

"And I'm not thinking of a career change!" I protested. Dad laughed.

"Don't get so worked up, Apollo. It was just a joke," he said, and Trucy laughed as well. I huffed.

"Daaaaaaaaad…" I whined, causing them both to laugh harder. Once they calmed down, Dad shook his head.

"Actually, your real client will be stopping by the office in the morning," he said, growing serious.

"Alright, Dad," I said, shaking my head.

"…One more thing, Apollo? Could you look into my accident as well? I marked it on the map. It's right in front of your favorite park. Should be easy to find," he said. I sighed, but smiled slightly.

"Of course, Dad," I said, folding up the map and slipping it into my Court Record. He nodded.

"Good. Now, go home and get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a busy day," he said with a grin. I nodded, leaning over and giving him a hug. Trucy hugged him as well.

"We'll be back to visit tomorrow, Daddy. You get some sleep too!" she said, before we headed out.

…

"Hey, hey, hey! How long you planning on making me wait, eh!?" a voice demanded as Trucy and I walked into the office. We were running late this morning, but I didn't expect to find the door unlocked. Dad must have forgotten to lock it again. Inside was a very familiar older man with blond, noodle like hair, wearing a ramen-bowl as a hat.

"Ah! Good morning!" Trucy said brightly.

"Hey there, Trucy-doll. Pollo-boy. Sounds like your pops had a bit of a rough spot, eh?" he asked.

"Yeah, but he's okay," I said with a smile.

"All's well that ends well, I guess," Trucy added.

 _Wait… is he our client?_

"Look at you, Pollo-boy! So much confidence now! Arms all crossed-like. Ready to fight!" he said with a grin.

"Yes, sir!" I said before realizing something. "You don't mean that literally, do you?"

"Your dad told you what I need, right? Don't let me down now, Pollo-boy!" he said. I grinned, uncrossing my arms and fist-pumping at my sides.

"Don't worry about your defense, Mr. Eldoon, I'm on it!" I said.

"Defense…? Your noodle half-cooked?" he demanded. "It's too late for defense! My castle's been stormed! My keep's been kept! My noodle stand's been stolen!" he lamented.

"What!?" both Trucy and I gasped.

"Yes… My noodle stand…" he sighed. "And after all the blood, sweat, and tears I've put into it this last year 'n' a half."

"That's… not that long, really," I said, crossing my arms thoughtfully. I never realized before how short a time it had been since Guy Eldoon opened his ramen shop for business.

"My family's been noodle men for generations," he said. "Got a lot of expectation on my shoulders. Fifteen fathers passing the noodle to fifteen sons."

"That's a pretty old noodle!" Trucy said brightly.

"Ew," I muttered at the thought of a fifteen generation old noodle.

"Aye, and fool that I was, I pushed it away. I rebelled against my pops, and picked another livelihood. But… that didn't turn out so well," Eldoon admitted.

"Oh," I said softly, feeling bad for the man.

"There was no denying it… Salty broth runs through these veins, boy!" he said.

"So, it was like destiny that you became what you are," Trucy said.

"Right, destiny's the word! Oh, I fought it… but in the end I was bound by the twisted noodle of fate!" Eldoon replied.

 _Not a mental image I care to linger on…_ I thought, reaching into my pocket and touching my deck of cards. _Although… I hope I'm not bound by this… 'twisted noodle of fate'…_ I glanced over at Trucy.

"So, last year, I started my noodle stand. The fifteenth generation of Eldoon's Noodles!" Eldoon concluded.

"So, your stand was stolen?" I asked.

"Yes. It was last night… I was doing my round, blowin' my whistle," Eldoon said.

"It's line an ice-cream truck's bell!" Trucy said brightly. I snickered.

"Yeah, but louder," I added.

Eldoon chuckled at us. "Now you' re just trying to butter me up." He shook his head. "I closed my stand for the night and parked by the house. Them this morning, dark 'n' early… it was gone! My keep! My castle! Oooooh!" he groaned. I crossed my arms, thinking back to last night. I had been near his house, chasing the panty thief, but now that I think about it… his cart hadn't been there.

"Maybe some bum carted it off?" I asked. "Just guessing here."

"Well, I don't care who did it! Without that stand, I'm finished! All my noodle bowls were in there, too," he said, before I could suggest he just open another stand.

"That's the saddest thing I've heard all day," Trucy said with a sad sigh.

 _Well, yeah, but you just woke up an hour ago!_

"You know it. Anyhows, that's the deal. Good luck!" Eldoon said.

"Good… huh? Wait… what exactly is your request?" I asked, confused.

"My noodle stand! Find it! And the day you bring my baby back is the day you feast on as many noodles as you want! Course I make it so hot 'n' salty, two bowls'd kill a man. Then I'd really need defense!" he said, chuckling at his own joke. Well… I hope it was a joke, for Maya's sake…

"Speaking of defense, you know I'm a Defense Attorney, not a detective," I said.

"This is the Wright _Anything_ Agency, right?" Eldoon said, before shaking his head. You know where I live. Drop by if you need any info, 'kay? Get it back today if you can, Pollo-boy. I got noodles to make!" he said.

"Things have certainly taken a turn for the bizarre," I said, crossing my arms. "Traffic accidents, noodle stand thieves…" I looked at me sister. "And a panty thief."

"What's this? More thieving and skullduggery!?" Eldoon gasped, before looking at Trucy. "Your panties were stolen? That's a cryin' shame, that is, Trucy-doll."

"Wait a minute… he didn't break in to steal them, did he!?" I gasped.

"No. I washed them, and hung them out the window to dry… when a thief came and took them! My favorite panties!" she complained. A sneaking suspicion entered my mind, but I shoved it away for now.

"That's when I gave chase… but I lost him," I admitted.

"Without those panties, I don't know what I'll do…" Trucy sighed, making my suspicion stronger.

"A darn cryin' shame, yup," Eldoon sighed. He then shook his head.

"I'll be headin' home now. Remember, find my stand or there's an empty bowl in yer future, Pollo-boy!" he said.

"Alright," I said, mildly disappointed at the thought of not having Eldoon noodles ever again.

"And I know ye'll be helpin' out your little sis here," he added, patting Trucy on the shoulder.

"Of course," I said with a smile as he walked out.

"Well, things have certainly picked up, haven't they! We had no work yesterday, and now we have three cases!" Trucy said brightly.

"Yeah…" I sigh.

"Let's see where we stand!"

"Not in a courtroom," I replied. Trucy laughed at that.

"First is Phoenix Wright… Daddy's hit and run accident. We have to find the one who hit him!" Trucy said.

"So that he can sue him," I added.

"And the second item… Mr. Eldoon's request… to find his stolen stand," Trucy continued.

"Which we have to find. For both ours and Mr. Eldoon's sakes," I said, thinking once more about that ramen.

"And the last request is mine! To find my stolen panties!" she concluded. I scowled, punching my fist into my palm.

"That panty thief is going down," I growled. Trucy grinned, grabbing my wrist.

"Come on, Polly! To the streets!" she said, pointing towards the door. I chuckled, letting her drag me.

"Well, aren't you enthusiastic?" I asked. She grinned back at me.

"How could I not be!?" she demanded. "Let's crack these cases, you and me!"

…

The first place we went was the scene of the accident. To one side was an entrance to People Park, one I normally never used. There was a reason for that.

Across from the entrance, on the other side of the road, was a large mansion, protected by a large wall that was splattered with paint. Dad warned me to steer clear.

The park, however, was a bee-hive of activity. It was blocked off by police tape, with an officer standing guard over the entrance. A police bus sat a little down the road, and a second police officer was pulling an elderly, shouting lady off the fence, which she was apparently trying to climb over.

"So this is where Dad got hit by that car?" Trucy asked.

"Yep! Right across from the park," I said. I then turned to mansion. "Hrm…" I hummed, "almost feels like Chinatown…" I muttered, having gone a few times with Clay. There was a dragon painted on the wall, and paint splattered all over the gate. Trucy suddenly perked next to me.

"Polly! There's a nice-looking lady over there. Looing over, I spotted a short, chubby woman, dressed in a black and red kimono with what I'm guessing is supposed to be a nine-tailed fox on the bottom. She was sweeping up near the paint mess.

"Um, okay…" I muttered. _What's happening in the park?_

"Excuse me!" Trucy said brightly, catching the woman's attention. "Um, can we have a few words with you?"

"You want something?" the woman demanded. I shivered.

 _Whoa! That husky voice… why am I suddenly sweating? What did Dad tell me again…?_

"That's quite a house you've got there! You must have a lot of money…" Trucy said with a grin, leaning towards the woman. I reached over, putting a hand on her arm to draw her back again.

"Whooooh. 'Money' sounds like something my son would call his friends. This is the Kitaki Family mansion, little girl," the woman said.

"Eh." Thee surprised noise escaped my slightly agape mouth, and a boulder dropped into my stomach. My hand tightened on Trucy's arm, but unfortunately, the woman's attention turned on me.

"You, kid with the hair. You want something?" she demanded in a vaguely threatening voice.

"Urk! M-m-me? No, not a thing! Bye!" I said, gripping Trucy's arm and starting to pull her away. She dug her feet in, pulling me to a stop.

"Polly! We can't leave without questioning her! What if she knows something!?" she demanded.

"B-but th-the Kitaki Family…" I all but whimpered. _They're the biggest organized crime syndicate in town! It's no_ wonder _Dad told me to steer clear of this entrance to the park!_

"If you're going to ask something, ask it," the woman said, before looking to the side with a smirk. "If you're man enough."

"M-man… enough…?" I spluttered, before noticing the evil eye she gave me. "R-right!"

"Yay! Way to whip him into shape, ma'am!" Trucy said brightly. I looked at her incredulously.

 _Does she know no fear!?_

"I'm Plum. Plum Kitaki. Wife of the fourth head of the Kitaki Family business. Friends call me Little Plum," Mrs. Kitaki said.

"I-I'm l-little Apollo Wright, attorney at law," I said with a gulp. _If looks could kill, this woman would be a mass-murderer by now…_ I glanced over at the park again, this time noticing a woman watching the activity of the officers. She was about as tall as me (although wearing heels helps), with brown hair pulled up into a bun. She was wearing a frilly yellow and blue dress with a wing design on the front of the chest, and finally, a green scarf wrapped around her neck.

"Who's that!? She's looking at the park," I muttered, crossing my arms and studying her.

"She's pretty," Trucy said, playfully nudging my ribs with her elbow. I blushed slightly.

"Trucy!" I grumbled, rubbing my side. Trucy then looked over at the woman thoughtfully.

"I bet she has a story, you know?" she said. I shrugged.

"I dunno," I replied. _Though… there is something about her. Too bad she's too focused on what's going on…_ I thought before turning back to Mrs. Kitaki. Trucy began talking before I could stop her.

"Little Plum? That's a really cute name for someone so…" she hesitated a moment, tapping her chin.

"Yes?" the woman demanded, adjusting her broom handle. I spotted a flash of metal between two pieces, and quickly put my hands on Trucy's shoulders.

"Wh-whoa!" I hissed.

"What is it, Polly?" Trucy asked, looking up at me.

"How about you go through me when talking to her, okay Trucy?" I hissed. Trucy gave me a confused look, crossing her arms.

"Huh? That seems like a bit of a needless procedure."

"I'm a lawyer," I said, giving her a pained look. "I live for needless procedures."

"Oh, little girl, you should know," Mrs. Kitaki said thoughtfully. "We're gangsters."

"Gangst… oh! That means you're the bad guys!" Trucy said brightly with an excited bounce. My stomach decided to join the gymnastics team.

"Trucy! Through me! Please! I'm begging you here!" I whimpered. Mrs. Kitaki laughed at that.

"The bad guys…" she said with a huge grin. "I like the sound of that!"

 _I'm going to need some warm tea after this…_

"It takes a lot of hard work to protect a family fortune," Mrs. Kitaki admitted. "Things aren't as easy as they used to be for us 'bad guys.'"

"So, you're saying that business is in a slump?" Trucy asked curiously.

"There was a car accident here last night?" I asked before Mrs. Kitaki could answer. I really didn't feel like talking about 'business.'

"Last night…" Mrs. Kitaki mumbled thoughtfully.

"Of c-course you wouldn't know about it!" I said, grateful for an escape. "S-sorry to bother you!"

"Wait," she said before we could escape.

"Y-yes?"

"You're talking about that man, aren't you? The one who flew thirty feet and just walked away?" she asked.

 _Dad just… walked… away… wow._

"That's our daddy!" Trucy said brightly. Mrs. Kitaki laughed.

"I should've known! One of our Capos thought he'd make a great point man…"

"Capo? Point man…?" Trucy asked. I sighed softly, shaking my head, thankful for her innocence.

"Um, could you avoid using too much, er… industry lingo?" I requested. Mrs. Kitaki shrugged with a smile, before shaking her head at the mess.

"In any case, it's been nothing but trouble. I've been cleaning up this mess since morning! Bah!" she said with a scowl.

"Cleaning up this… paint?" I asked. "Was this paint spilled at the time of the accident?"

"It was around nine last night. I heard a crashing noise… and found your father drowning in a sea of paint," she explained.

 _Come to think of it, there was paint all over his hoodie…_

"So you came to his rescue?" Trucy asked.

"You've my husband… the Boss to thank for that. The car that hit your father knocked over this paint… then turned the corner, and sped away. We're in the middle of repainting our wall, you see," she explained. I looked over, and shivered at the golden eyes of the painted dragon.

 _I'm sure that dragon is glaring at me…_

"But why are you out here cleaning it up?" Trucy asked.

"What do you mean?" Mrs. Kitaki asked.

"I mean, aren't you a gangster?" Trucy asked brightly. My stomach began practicing its back flips. "Don't you have any 'goons' to do your dirty work for you?"

"Trucy, please! Go through me when you want to—" I cut off as the woman started laughing again.

"Don't be such a stiff, lawyer-boy. I suppose we gangsters do have a certain image…" she said thoughtfully. I hesitated, rubbing the top of my head.

"Well, Urm… yes," I admitted. Mrs. Kitaki smiled.

"But we're community-oriented gangsters, you see… The Boss likes to give back to the people, see?" she explained.

 _How noble of him…_

"I availed myself of the public facilities to get rid of all the garbage… Now there's just the paint on the street to deal with," Mrs. Kitaki said.

 _Public facilities?_ I thought, looking over at the park, spotting a trash can. _I wonder if she means that trash can…_ My eyes lifted to the entrance of the park. "Personally, I'm a little more interested in the park," I admitted.

"You know what I think? I bet they're filming a movie. Let's go take a look! Maybe we'll see someone famous!" Trucy said brightly, taking off for the entrance. The police officer spotted her and moved to intercept her.

"Hey, Miss! Stay out of the park!" he barked. Trucy backed off, looking sad.

"He got mad at me," she said softly to me. I sighed, shaking my head and patting her shoulder, before looking up.

"Um, did something happen here, officer?" I asked.

"Huh? Uh, no, move along, nothing to see. Why don't you kids go play someplace else?" the officer said. Shock rolled through me. I know I looked young, but… that young!?

"We're not kids and we're not playing!" I snapped. "I'm an attorney!" I started reaching up for my badge.

"Something wrong?" a voice suddenly asked. I looked up, and froze. She was older (after all, it was seven years since I'd last seen her), but she was unmistakable, with her long, brown hair, white scientist coat, and those pink glasses. I always wondered what she was up to, after meeting her at the court house all those years ago.

"Ah, Detective Skye! We're fine ma'am, nothing to report!" the officer said.

 _Detective…? She's a detective? And her name… it's Skye…_

"Why's she wearing a lab coat?" Trucy asked. The detective didn't even look at us: instead, she was studying a vial from her bag.

"And… these kids are?" she asked. That stung a little.

 _I guess she doesn't recognize me…_

"Curiosity seekers, ma'am. They claim to be 'lawyers,'" the officer said.

"Ah." She gave the vial a little shake. "Why don't your kids run along and play someplace else?"

I opened my mouth to protest, but I was still, for some reason, hurt by the detective not recognizing me. She gave me a cursory glance.

"Or I might spill something on that pretty face of yours. Want a dose of experimental Hydroxyacelunodosetrase?"

"…Come again?" Trucy asked. "What's this Hydroxy… stuff?"

"Does it matter?" I said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Let's just go," I sighed, turning back to the Kitaki mansion.

"Try to keep out the riff-raff, if you would," the detective said. I glanced over my shoulder in time to see her disappear back into the park.

"Polly? You okay?" Trucy asked. I jolted slightly.

"Yeah? Why?" I asked.

"You seemed… hurt."

"I'm fine," I said with a smile. Trucy studied me for a moment, a knowing smile on her face, before she looked forward.

"Well… if we want more info, why don't we asked that nice woman across the street?" Trucy asked.

 _Oh yes, that nice woman…_ I stopped next to the trashcan. "Why don't we look in here first?" I said, peeking in.

"A detective's life sure is a hard one!" Trucy said, and I could hear the smile in her voice.

"I'm an attorney, actua—" I started to remind her, before cutting off. "Huh?" I asked, standing, holding two things. A car mirror and a pair of slippers.

"Hmm. Two pieces of garbage with paint on them," Trucy hummed.

"These… are slippers. They look like those slipper you get at the hospital," I said, studying them first.

"Look at this, Apollo!" Trucy said, pointing at the mirror. "Doesn't this go on a car…?"

"It's a side-view mirror!" I said. "Looks like it was torn off when it smacked into something..." Something clicked in my brain. "Or someone…"

"Wait, you don't think…" Trucy looked at me with wide eyes.

"I do. This could be from the car that hit Dad!"

"Wow, and he took off its mirror? I never knew Daddy was so strong," Trucy said brightly. I nodded.

"Seriously. Well, the slippers are kind of useless. Ten to one, Dad was wearing his old flip-flops," I said, dropping the slippers back into the trash. "Let's take the mirror though." I slipped it into one of the evidence bags I normally carry, and put it in my bag. We then turned back to Mrs. Kitaki.

"Can I ask you a question?" I asked hesitantly.

"What?" she asked, looking up from her sweeping.

"What happened in the park across the street?" I asked.

"Oh, yes, quite the commotion. 'Chicago Lightening,' as the Boss would say," Mrs. Kitaki said, putting a hand to her cheek.

"Chicago… huh?" Trucy asked.

"Gunfire," Mrs. Kitaki clarified. I nodded as though I knew the reference from the beginning. "Someone was killed. Strange circumstances, too."

"You're kidding!" I gasped.

"What a morning!" Mrs. Kitaki sighed. "Trouble everywhere. The park, the gate, even our house…"

"Did something happen at your house, too?" Trucy asked.

"A crime without honor!" Mrs. Kitaki snapped, adjusting the broom handle again. I definitely saw something metal this time. "Without remorse! It's a private matter…" she sighed, letting the broom go back to normal and putting a hand to her cheek. "Wanna hear about it?"

 _So much for private…_

"Somehow I don't think 'no' is an acceptable answer, Polly," Trucy hissed.

"So… what happened at your house?" I asked.

"Bloomers. Last night," Mrs. Kitaki said, a hand still on her cheek.

"Eh." The small noise escaped me without conscious thought. _I got a bad feeling about this…_

"Me, Little Plum Kitaki, the victim of a panty-snatcher!" she exclaimed.

"Whaaaaaaat!?" Trucy and I both gasped.

"So it wasn't just my panties that were stolen!?" Trucy gasped, at the same time I said, "so he invaded your privacy too!?"

"Got you too, did they?" Mrs. Kitaki said. "Poor thing. Like I said, whoever did this is a hardened criminal," she hissed.

"Polly chased after him last night, but he never got a good look at him," Trucy said. Mrs. Kitaki looked at me appraisingly.

"Looks like you take after your father," she said, before shaking her head. "I've heard word that panties have been disappearing lately… and the missing panties all have something in common," she said.

 _Ew. I can't imagine Trucy's and Mrs. Kitaki's panties having much in common… I just imagined Mrs. Kitaki's panties…_

"I know! We'll find your bloomers, too!" Trucy said.

"Great! Show me what you're made of," Mrs. Kitaki said with a smile.

 _So, what. We're up to… four cases now?_

Just then, the girl in the yellow dress with the green scarf walked over.

 _That girl from before!_

"Oh! Welcome home, sweetie," Mrs. Kitaki said with a smile.

"Ah, uh… hello, m-mother," she said.

 _She's a Kitaki, too!?_ I thought in shock.

"Uh, um, Miss! Miss!" Trucy said. The woman looked over in confusion, and Trucy held something out. "Here, our flyer."

"The… Wright Anything Agency?" the woman asked.

"Yes! So, um, this is our defense attorney, Mr. Apollo Wright!" she introduced. I looked over at her in confusion.

 _My sister can be so weird sometimes… scratch that. ALL the time…_

"Attorney…?" the woman asked.

"Drop by our office! We'll be waiting!" Trucy said. The woman gave us a small smile.

"Ah… Good-bye," she said, rushing through the gate.

"Why did you give her our flyer?" I asked.

"I dunno. She seemed like she could use some help," Trucy replied.

"She's the heiress to a gangster dynasty! She doesn't need our help!" I said. Trucy smirked at me.

"I wouldn't bee so sure!"

"Huh?"

"Come on, Polly! Let's get to the scene of the Noodle Stand Theft!" she said, grabbing my wrist and dragging me away.

…

We slowed to a walk as we reached the front of Eldoon's house and the Meraktis Clinic. In front of Eldoon's house was a single noodle bowl, laying morosely on its side. I pointed it out.

"I can see a piece of evidence lying on the ground already," I said. Trucy's attention, on the other hand, was on the front of the clinic.

"Hey! Look, there's a police car parked over there," I said.

"You're right," I said, looking over at it. Just then, my eyes locked on the garage. "Hey, that's where the thief went!" I exclaimed.

"The panty-thief!?" Trucy gasped.

"Yeah!"

"Maybe that police car is here to find my panties!"

"…I… doubt it," I admitted.

"Well, there's only one way to be sure! Let's investigate!" Trucy said. Before she stepped forward, Eldoon came out of his house.

"Ah, there you are, Pollo-boy! Well, you find anything yet!?" he demanded.

"Er, um, no. Not yes," I admitted. He scowled, crossing his arms.

"The longer you loaf around here the saltier your victory bowl gets, just remember that!" he said.

 _This bowl of noodles is sounding less like payment and more like punishment…_ I thought.

"So, you stand, Eldoon's Noodles, was stolen…" I said, crossing my arms.

"Oh, it wasn't just the stand that was stolen, Pollo-boy! I lost those wobbly wheels, my salt-crusted stewpot, my stained sign… I didn't just lose a stand, I lost a legend!" Eldoon lamented.

"No one steals a legend and gets away with it on my watch! Let's find that legend, Apollo!" Trucy said seriously.

"Let's get some details first," I countered before looking at Eldoon. "Are there any more details you could give me about the stand?" I asked.

"You bed, sonny-boy! It happened last night… I was blowing my whistle like always, crying the town, I was. The smell of broth filled the streets… thick 'n' salty," he shook his head in reminiscence. "I got home, well, right before ten pm, I reckon."

 _Guess he's not aiming for that late-night market…_

"I washed my bowls and gave the wheels a squirt of grease. Then I went inside," he concluded.

"When did you notice it had been stolen?" I asked.

"Around one in the morning last night. I always check on my stand!"

 _That's a three hour gap there…_

"I'm washed up on the salty shores of ruination! That stand had my whole life in it… nay, my whole being!" Eldoon lamented once more, playing a riff on his harmonica.

"They took everything?" Trucy asked once he'd finished.

"All my soup stock, my noodles, my bowls… and my dreams!" he replied.

"At least they left one bowl. Look, there, on the ground," Trucy pointed.

"If you don't find that stand today… then I'll be forced to walk the streets, peddling that bowl…" he sighed. "My last bowl…"

"Please, I'm under enough pressure here as it is…" I groaned, slumping forward slightly. We decided to take that time to investigate the area for clues. The first thing I checked was a blue, plastic sheet.

"That's the place! Right there! That's where I kept my stand. Covered all nice 'n' purty with that blue tarp there!

"So you used this plastic sheet to cover your stand at night?" I asked. "I see…"

"You see? What? Did you figure out why it was stolen!?" Trucy gasped.

"Well… no," I said, glancing at her. "But it does suggest that the thief knew what he or she was looking for. They clearly knew what was under that sheet," I explained.

"So it wasn't one of those casual drive-by stand snatchers, you mean?" Eldoon asked. "Not bad, Pollo-boy. Not bad at all!"

I smiled at that, before turning to the bowl. I already knew it was his, so I just added it to my court record. When it doubt…

Not seeing much more in front of Eldoon's house, I turned to the clinic.

"I'd understand if there was an ambulance outside… but a police car?" I asked, studying the cop cruiser.

"Maybe they're tax evaders!" Trucy said brightly, making her way towards the building. An officer spotted her and stopped her.

"Ah, sorry miss. No going into the clinic today," he said.

"Did something happen? Trucy asked.

"Huh? Oh, no. Nothing to see here. Move along. You'll have to find someplace else to play doctor," the officer said, making a shooing motion with his hands.

 _Um… Ew. She's my sister!_ "We need a little more info on this Meraktis Clinic," I said.

"We could ask Mr. Eldoon. He is their neighbor and all. And we should check out that garace! What if the thief who stole my panties is still in there!?" Trucy asked. I sighed softly, not even bothering to answer that as I turned back to the noodle vendor.

"Hey, do you think something happened next door? There's a police car out front…" she said before I had the chance to.

"Feh!" Eldoon spat. "Probably gave someone food poisoning, I'll bet!"

 _Uh… he's a doctor. Not a food server…_

"The police car got here this mornin', actually. I asked what they were up to, but they wouldn't even tell me, the neighbor! Feh!" he spat again.

"Hmm…" Trucy hummed.

"Not that I was surprised much. That doctor works for the wrong crowd. It was just a matter of time 'fore he got what was coming to him. Feh!"

"The 'wrong crowd'?" I asked. Eldoon looked between me and Trucy before shaking his head.

"Never you mind about that," he said.

After a little bit longer of searching, and not finding any evidence, Trucy decided it would be a good idea to sneak into the garage of the Meraktis Clinic.

"This is it. This is where that panty-snatcher ran," I said, looking around.

"Let's look for clues!" Clues… to a panty-snatching! Clues… like a pair of panties!" Trucy said. I chuckled softly.

 _That's optimistic…_ I thought. Something in the corner caught my eye. "Look, it's a folding ladder," I pointed out.

"Polly! That's called a 'stepladder!' C'mon, who went to college!?" she challenged. I smirked.

"…A stepladder? How is that different from a regular ladder then?" I asked innocently.

"It's a much more complex piece of machinery. It's like two ladders stuck together!" Trucy said in a superior voice.

"Oh… okay," I said, before putting a finger to my forehead. "So you admit that basically it's a ladder, right?"

Trucy's eyes popped open, and she looked at me. "Wait… huh?"

I grinned, wrapping an arm around her. "You have to look past the form," I said, motioning to the ladder. "At the essence of the thing."

"Er… can we talk about something else?" she asked, and I snickered, before turning and studying the green car taking up most of the room, letting my arm drop from around her.

"There's something about this car…" I muttered.

"Let's take a closer look!" Trucy said, still eager to change the topic. I moved closer myself, studying it.

"The tailpipe… that reminds me… I once read a record of a case that Dad worked on many years ago," I said. Trucy looked over at me with a smirk.

"You read the records for _every_ case Daddy worked on," she reminded me. I rolled my eyes, kneeling next to the muffler.

"Apparently, there was this car with a piece of cloth shoved in the tailpipe," I said, pretending she didn't interrupt. "That piece of cloth turned out to be a vital clue to solving the case!"

"Wow!" Trucy gasped.

"I remember that case record whenever I'm checking out a car… and I always check the tailpipe!" I explained, dropping to one knee near the muffler.

"Everyone's gotta have a hobby, I guess," Trucy said. I shot her a dirty look.

"Wouldn't it be funny if…" I started, reaching into the pipe, before gasping, my fingers brushing against something silky. "Hey! There's something in here!"

"What!?" Trucy gasped.

"W-wait a second," I stammered, pulling out the cloth and instantly recognizing the powder blue with pink hearts. "Are these your—"

"Aaaaaaaaaaah!" Trucy squealed, causing me to flinch away from her. "My panties!" she snatched them from my hands.

"You're magic panties? Really!?" I replied, rubbing one of my ears. "You made me chase down a potentially dangerous, hardened criminal for you _magic panties!?_ "

"They're one of a kind, Polly!" she replied, hugging the silky bloomers. "I don't know what I would have done without them!"

"I don't know… get new ones?" I replied.

"These panties are an extra-dimensional space. Anything can fit in there. I can't just get a new pair!" she retorted. I held up my hands with a sigh.

"Fine, fine. Not like I even know how the stupid trick works…" I replied. _Or even want to know…_ "Well, that's once case closed, at least," I said.

"What are you saying!?" Trucy demanded. "We still have to catch the sly devil that ran off with the tool of my trade!"

I sighed. _She's right, of course. And… this creep probably didn't know they were her magic panties, meaning he still disrespected her._

"Right. Well, lets continue looking around here for now. There's still something about this car," I said, standing and brushing the knee of my pants off, before walking slowly around the car.

I noticed something sitting on the floor, just behind one of the wheels. I stooped down, picking it up with an evidence baggy. "Look… a cell phone."

"Someone dropped it beneath this tire!" Trucy gasped. "If the car moved, it would be crushed for sure!"

"Hmm… I wonder if it belongs to the doctor here?" I suggested.

"We should bring it to him later!" Trucy said, and I nodded, putting it into my pocket.

"Hey! Look at that!" Trucy suddenly said. I looked up, seeing her pointing at the side-view mirror. Or.. where it should have been.

"The mirror's been broken off!" I gasped. _Now_ this _is a clue!_

"What!?" Trucy demanded, looking at my face. "You're smiling like you know something I don't… you aren't keeping a clue from me, are you, Polly?" she demanded. I shrugged, not realizing a smile had spread across my face.

"I think I do have just the clue you've got in mind…" I said, pulling out the mirror. "My clue is this!"

"Whoa! It's the same color and size and everything! A perfect match!" Trucy gasped.

"And we found this in the trash in front of People Park," I said. "Covered in paint."

"That's right!" Trucy gasped.

"Well… looks like we've just solved a case," I said with a grin.

"So the car that hit Daddy last night…" Trucy started.

"…Is sitting right in front of us, yep," I replied.

"Wow. You put the 'pro' in 'professional,' Polly!" Trucy cheered.

"Gee, thanks Trucy," I replied, making note of it in my court record.

"Polly!" Trucy said brightly.

"Hm?" I asked, putting the book back.

"Now that we've solved this case, we should go report to Daddy! You know how much he'll mope if we leave him alone too long," she said. I snickered.

"That's true," I said, before sighing. _Though there doesn't seem to be anything worth reporting with this case…_ I thought as we snuck back out of the garage, avoiding the police.

…

Dad was sitting on the bed, propped against the pillows. His sprained ankle was stretched before him. He hit something on the remote next to him, pausing the episode of one of the samurai shows he was in the middle of watching. I noticed a swaying tower of dvds next to the bed, and shook my head.

 _Looks like a certain spirit medium was here…_

"Yo!" Dad called. "How goes it?" he asked.

"Daddy!" Trucy said, darting over in a swirl of blue cloak. "How do you feel?"

"Not bad, Trucy, not bad. It's good to have you young'uns on the case. Lets ol' Daddy-o get some well-deserved R-and-R," Dad said. I smirked, crossing my arms.

"Well, the elderly _do_ need their rest," I quipped, getting an eye roll from him. "Seriously though, we've cleared up most of the cases."

"Good job, Apollo. I always knew you were competent and capable," he said with a warm smile. I grinned back. "Tell me what you found out, though I certainly didn't expect you back this early…"

"Polly's amazing!" Trucy said before I could get a word in edgewise. "He found my panties so quick! Almost like he was the one who stole them!" I looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Okay, I object to your statement. One: Ew. You're my sister! Two: You have an interesting concept of praise," I said. Her and Dad laughed at me.

"And? Did you find the mad driver who gave me that 30-foot toss?" Dad asked once we calmed down.

"Apparently… it was a doctor," I said. "From the Meraktis Clinic."

"Hmm… Meraktis, eh? I've heard of him. Nothing good, mind you," Dad said. I jumped slightly, just remembering something.

"That reminds me, a police car was parked outside the clinic," I said.

"Maybe something happened? Trucy asked, though Dad fell quiet. Thoughtful. I looked at him.

"What is this Meraktis Clinic anyway?" I asked.

"All I've heard are the rumors," Dad started slowly. "That clinic's been making good money… in a bad way."

"Bad…?" I asked, remembering Eldoon mentioning something like that.

"Ties to organized crime… The Kentucky Family," he said, looking away. I caught a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Um… the Kitaki Family?" _He totally did that on purpose!_

"Some injuries you can't take to a public hospital, see," Dad explained. "They use the Meraktis Clinic for their patch-up jobs."

"Interesting…" I hummed. _Guess that would explain the police…_

"Speaking of police, it looked like something had happened in that park," Trucy said.

"Ah," Dad said. "A body was found there in unusual circumstances…"

"Something more unusual than being dead?" I asked, arms crossed.

Dad was silent for a moment, looking away to the side. "It's not our concern, in any case," he finally said.

"Right! Let's ignore that and find that noodle stand!" Trucy said brightly. I sighed.

 _What ever happened to professional curiosity…?_

"Thanks, really," Dad said. "If I get tired of sleeping, maybe I'll head down to this Meraktis place. Maybe hit 'em up for some reparations… a little legal action would do me some good," Dad laughed. I shook my head.

 _He totally misses this life…_ I thought as I waved while we walked out. Trucy and I decided to go back to the office to plan our next move in finding the noodle cart.

When we got there, though, a familiar face was waiting outside of the office.

"You… you're the woman from the Kitaki place!" I gasped, recognizing that yellow dress and green scarf anywhere.

"Y-yes…" she said softly, stepping aside to let me unlock the door. Inside, I quickly moved some of Trucy's props off the couch, offering her a seat. She smiled weakly, sitting.

"Tea?" I offered.

"N-no… thank you," she said politely.

"I knew it!" Trucy suddenly exploded. "Something's the matter and you want our help, right? Well, you've come to the Wright place! We're here to take your troubles away!" Trucy said. I shook my head slightly.

"Um… thank you. My name is Alita Tiala. I… have a request," she said.

"Let me guess, something's been stolen?" I sighed. _With how this day has been going…_

"Um, your flyer… it says 'now defending' so I thought…" she trailed off.

"Whaaaat!?" I gasped. "You mean, you mean you want me to defend you!?" I gasped, excitement rolling through me. "Me?"

"Maybe you can tell us what happened? Were you hit by a car? Did someone steal your stand? Or your panties?" Trucy asked. Alita looked confused for a moment.

"No! No… I'm not the client, actually. The client would be my… well, my fiancé, I supposed you'd call him," she said.

"Fiancé…? What happened to him, then?" I asked, forcing myself to calm down.

"He was arrested this morning. They charge… was murder."

"Murder…" Trucy breathed.

"Have you heard about what happened at the park?" Alita asked.

 _But it's not our concern, Dad,_ I thought smugly. "Wh-what happened?" I asked.

"I haven't been told all the details. But I do know a body was found in the park. Near the Kitaki Mansion," Alita explained, while I took notes.

"There were a lot of police cars there," Trucy mused.

"Apparently, the victim was shot with a pistol… But I hear the circumstances of the shooting were… rather unusual," Alita continued. I nodded. After all, Dad had said the same thing.

"And your fiancé was arrested for this?" I asked. Alita nodded.

"Um… what sort of person is your fiancé?" Trucy asked.

"To that end, what about you?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. "What's your story? You frequent the Kitaki Mansion, yes? Are you a member of their, um… organization?"

"No…" Alita said thoughtfully. "Not yet."

"Not yet?" Trucy asked.

"You see, I'm to be married next month," Alita explained. "To the boss's son."

"The boss's son…? So he's a., uh…" I gulped. _A gangster…_

"Yes, but the Kitakis are locally responsible gangsters," Alita said. "I thought it'd be nice for a change… quite my boring ho, live the good, gangster life…" she sighed.

 _Sounds more like you just want the life, not that you're in love with Wocky…_

"I think you're on to something!" Trucy said, bouncing up and down. "'Ms. Kitaki'… I like the sound of that!"

"No." I shut her down before she could even continue.

"So, your fiancé is the Kitaki Family's only son, correct?" I asked, getting back on track.

"Yes. His name's Wocky. Wocky Kitaki… I brought a photo," she said, pulling a picture from her bag.

A young man, wearing a pink and yellow jacket over a Bad Badger shirt, smiled at the camera, twirling his orange bangs around his finger. I recognized the background as People Park.

"Well. That's… quite the photo," I said reminded of a big teddy bear rather then a gangster.

"I know!" Alita tittered. "Oh, he can be powerful and menacing, but so cute!"

"But if he's the boss's only son…" I trailed off.

"Yes, I'm sure he'll take his father's place some day," she said, getting a little more serious.

"Say, I'm a boss already! Of this agency!" Trucy said brightly.

"Puh-lease," I replied, and she stuck her tongue out at me.

"Please help my Wocky! Please!" Alita pleaded. I grinned with a determined nod.

 _Right! My first solo defense case! Crime boss's son on not, I'll prove he's innocent!_ I thought.

"I… prepared a letter of request. I know you need those," Alita said, holding out the letter. I took it with another nod.

"Thank you," I said.

"Right! Let's go check out the scene of the crime!" Trucy said.

"One moment. Let me go grab something," I said, disappearing into the back and grabbing something I hadn't worn in years. I carefully flattened it and put it into my bag. _This will come in handy later, I hope._

I returned to the front and grinned at Trucy.

"Let's get this started!" I said, leading her out. I pulled out my phone.

' _Guess who just got their second case!'_ I sent to Clay.

' _Who's your client!?'_

' _Wocky Kitaki. Murder charges.'_

' _Wait… what!? How's your dad feel about that?'_

' _Er…_ _he doesn't know… he's not back from the hospital yet…'_

' _The hospital!? What's happened!?'_ Clay demanded.

 _Whoops,_ I thought, before spending the entire walk to the Detention Center explaining through text what's happened since last night.

Unfortunately, my new client was in questioning when I got there. So, we headed towards the scene of the murder instead, though I decided to swing by the clinic first to check on Dad.

Once again, he was watching those silly samurai shows. He paused it when we walked in.

"Ah, you're back! Run into some problems?" he asked.

"Oh, Polly, didn't you want to tell Daddy something?" Trucy asked before I could say anything.

"Who? Me? No! I'm fine. Really," I said. _What problem would I have?_

"What's this? So there is a problem?" Dad asked, looking between the two of us in confusion.

"No, no problem," I said, making a placating motion with my hands, before grinning. "Actually, I got a defense request!"

"A defense request!?" Dad gasped, before looking away, rubbing the back of his neck. "That is a problem…" he sighed.

"Huh…?" I was confused. _What does he mean, 'that is a problem'!? This'll put food on the table!_

"I've given up the court. I'm not a lawyer anymore," he said. I stared at him for a moment.

"The request was for me!" I said.

"Oh, right. You're a lawyer, aren't you?" he asked innocently, looking up at me.

"Daaaaaaaaaad!" I groaned, while Trucy giggled. _Jerk!_ Even dad grinned at me, before looking thoughtful.

"So, what's the defense request?" he asked.

"It has to do with the murder in People Park," I explained. "We were on our way to the scene of the crime, since our client is in questioning, but decided to stop here first," I explained. Dad opened his mouth, but was cut off.

"And did you tell him who your client was?"

I turned to see Clay coming further into the room, a look of mixed amusement, anger, and worry on his face.

"Hello, Clay. I was just about to ask, actually," Dad said. I sighed, knowing if I didn't say it, Clay or Trucy would.

"Wocky Kitaki…" I admitted.

"What!?" Dad gasped, sitting forward, staring at me. "Seriously!?"

"Yes," I said. Dad groaned, flopping back.

"I hope he's truly innocent, and that you prove it, Apollo," he said.

"Seriously. I'd hate to see how the family would react if you lost…" Clay added, giving a shudder. A cold sweat started to build on the back of my neck.

"I don't think it'll be all bad!" Trucy said brightly. "After all, Little Plum seemed nice!"

I groaned again, suddenly feeling a lot more pressure then before. Clay sighed, wrapping an arm around me and Trucy.

"Too late to back out now, I suppose. Come on, let's go investigate," he said. I looked up at him in shock.

"You're going to help?" I asked.

"Yeah, why not?" he said, flashing a grin at me. I smiled back, while Trucy cheered.

"Bye, Daddy! We'll be back later!" she called.

…

In front of the blocked off entrance to the park stood a motorbike, purple, with an oddly familiar, stylized… G? 6? On the side.

 _So this is it… my first murder crime scene that I get to investigate!_

"Ah, it's you kids again. With a friend. Look, can't you find some other place to play?" the officer pleaded. Clay looked surprised for a moment before snickering.

"We're not playing!" Trucy snapped. "We're um, 'investigating!' Aren't we, Polly?" she asked. I pulled Alita's letter from my pocket.

"Sir, I have a letter of request here," I said, handing it over.

"Letter of—huh?" the officer gasped, studying it. "Why does it say 'hit request' on it?" he demanded.

"Ugh… Alita must have used the Kitaki stationary," I muttered. Clay patted my shoulder sympathetically.

"Excuse me, coming through," an all too familiar voice said. My head snapped up, and I spotted a blond man coming towards us.

He looked exactly like Kristoph Gavin, but that's not what bothered me the most. It was _him_. The prosecutor who resided over Zak's trial… and who made Dad loose his badge. His hair was longer, and he now wore a purple suit jacket, but he still wore a handful of rings and that stupid chain around his neck.

"Ah! It's you! Mr. Gavin!" the officer exclaimed. He flashed a smile at the officer, before noticing my eyes on him.

"I must say I'm used to being inspected by the ladies… But this is the first time I've felt this way with a man," he said, leaning way too close to my face. I took half a step back, my eyebrows drawing together, while Clay snorted softly. Trucy, on the other hand, was staring at the man, and his attention turned to her.

"Ah, Fraulein. What is a sweet morsel like you doing in such a dismal place? Can I help?" he asked.

"Y-yes! The police man officer fellow here won't let us in! We even have a letter of request!" Trucy explained.

"You must be exhausted, standing out here! I will take you to the scene of the crime," Gavin explained.

"Oooh! R-really!?" Trucy asked brightly.

Gavin turned to the man in front of the entrance. "By your leave, Officer."

"Ya… yes sir!" the man saluted. "Of course, sir!" He moved aside to let us through.

Gavin chuckled, putting a hand on Trucy's back. "Very well. This way, Fraulein," he said, propelling her forward gently.

"Whee!" Trucy squealed.

"Hey! What about me!?" I demanded, jogging to catch up with them., Clay at my side. He touched my arm.

"You okay? You looked pretty pissed back there," he said.

"He… prosecuted Zak," I said, and a look of understanding dawned on his face.

"Oh."

The man chatted with Trucy the entire time, until we reached the center of the park.

"On that note, enjoy your investigation," he said, turning to leave.

"Thank you!" Trucy called. "Will we see you again…?"

"As the wind, Fraulein. I'll be riding on it!" he said, walking away. I crossed my arms with a scowl, rolling my eyes.

"Gross," I hissed. Clay chuckled at me again.

Trucy suddenly screamed from next to me, making me jump a foot in the air. "Apollo! Clay! Look! A c-corpse!"

"Whaaaaaat!?" I gasped, whirling around, before stopping, studying what she thought was a corpse.

"Hey, it's just a mannequin," Clay said.

"Wow. It sure got me."

Suddenly, someone cleared their throat from behind. I turned, and my heart skipped a beat.

It was the detective.

"Might I ask exactly what it is you're doing here?" she said, before glancing at us over a bag of Snackoos. "Oh, it's you. How did you kids get in here?" she demanded.

"Oh! This guy, well, he was more like a prince really. He let us in…" Trucy said. I, on the other hand, stepped back slightly, pulling something from my bag.

"Him again," Detective Skye growled. "That Glimmerous fop, always getting in my way… Anyway! This scene is off limits," she said.

"But we have a letter of request!" Clay protested, while Trucy held out Alita's letter.

 _When did she get that!?_ I thought, adjusting the fabric over my shoulders. Thankfully, it still fit.

"…Hmm. One moment," she hummed, taking the letter and pulling out a magnifying glass, studying it. I moved forward again, ready. Trucy glanced over at me, and gasped in surprise… and happiness. Clay also looked over, and smother his laughter. I quickly elbowed him in the ribs and put a finger to my lips.

"I'd recognize that handwriting anywhere. Scientific analysis says this was written by Alita Tiaila," she said, looking up and handing the letter back. Her eyes locked on me, and grew wide. "You!" she gasped, putting a hand to her cheek. I grinned, taking the letter back.

"I thought you might recognize me better like this," I said, motioning to the crimson, Gramarye cloak and silk hat I now wore.

"Of course! How could I forget you?" she asked, grinning at me, before growing serious. "Although… I always wondered what happened to you. After the Gramarye case, you… disappeared," she said softly. I shrugged, though her hand slipping into her pocket didn't escape my notice.

"The Gramaryes broke up," I admitted. "And after our… father vanished from court, Trucy and I got adopted," I explained, motioning to my sister as I said her name.

"Wait, you two know each other?" Trucy demanded.

"We met once, in front of the courthouse during the Gramarye case," the detective said. "Apollo did a magic trick for me," she added with a grin.

"Seems that was always his favorite ice breaker. That's how him and I met, too," Clay said. I shrugged, before looking up at the detective.

"Though I never got your name," I said, not letting this chance slip by. She looked at me in surprise.

"No? I'm sorry! It's Ema Skye," she said with a smile. I grinned back, before looking around.

"So… what's up with the mannequin there?" I asked, fidgeting with the brooch of my cloak. I figured it was time to get back down to business. The mannequin was odd. It looked to be pulling the cart, after all.

"It's taking the place of the body, preserving the scene of the crime," Ema explained.

 _The body… was pulling the stand!?_

"What does the great magician Apollo Gramarye care though?" she asked, looking at me curiously.

"I'm no longer the great magician Apollo Gramarye," I admitted, turning back to her and pulling the collar of the cloak down to reveal my badge. "I'm the defense attorney, Apollo Wright."

"Wright!?" she gasped, before shaking her head. "No… it couldn't be…" she muttered, before looking at us. "So, you're a defense attorney now? I'm a detective, the one in charge of this crime scene," she said, her mood turning sour.

"She doesn't seem that happy about it…" Trucy hissed. I nodded, wondering how the moody woman who was, once again, snacking on Snackoos, had once been the bright-eyed girl I met seven years ago. She looked at us once more before sighing.

"Wright… as in… Phoenix Wright?" she asked. I smiled.

"Yeah. He adopted us," I explained, before looking confused. "You act as though you know him though…"

"I do. He helped me out of a tight spot, probably about ten years ago. Truthfully, he saved my life. I was hoping to visit him, but… I'd heard he'd giving up law…"

"In a way," I replied. Ema shook her head.

"Well, let's get down to business. I'll help you in any way I can!" she said. I smiled warmly.

"Okay.

"Well, why don't we get to know you better, first," Clay said smoothly, wrapping an arm around me. "What's your story?"

"Who? Me? I'm just a supervisor for this crime scene," she said. Clay nodded.

"Go on," he said curiously. I felt like kicking him.

"Well, I was out of the country for a while. I cam back to be a forensic scientist," she explained.

"Ooh! Where you studying abroad?" Trucy asked brightly.

"Something like that," Ema admitted. "I was studying in Europe. Forensic sciences, mind you. But when I got back here, they threw me in criminal affairs! Just like that!" she complained.

"Why didn't you just become a forensics expert in Europe?" Trucy asked.

"Well, I suppose that was an option, but… I had a lot of favors to repay to people back here," she explained.

"Like Mr. Wright," Clay said.

"Right. Plus, I was… er… hoping for a few performers to make a comeback," she added, and I noticed her hand was in her pocket again.

 _What's in there that's so important to her?_ I wondered. I then shook my head.

"Well, back to business. What can you tell us?" I asked her.

"The report came in late last night. The body was found much as you see it now… except it was a real body," she explained.

"But… why?" Clay asked.

"Why was a body pulling a noodle stand?" Ema asked before shaking her head. "If I knew the answer to that, I wouldn't still be here."

"Well, what was the cause of death?" I asked.

"A bullet wound, to the temple. He was shot by a pistol," Ema said.

"A pistol?" Trucy asked.

"Not the easiest thing to come by in this day and age," the detective replied.

 _Unless you're a cop… or a gangster._

"Incidentally, the victim's name was Pal Meraktis. I just received the autopsy report, in fact," she said, handing my a copy. A boulder dropped into my stomach as I recognized the name.

That would explain the police there earlier…

"I mean, really! What's up with this case!?" Ema demanded. "It's enough to make me want to runoff, pulling a mysterious noodle stand behind me."

"No so mysterious, actually. Polly, this is Mr. Eldoon's stand!" Trucy exclaimed.

"What!?" I gasped, moving around the detective and studying it. Sure enough, she was right. "Oh, Jesus…"

 _First Dad get's hit, by the victim, no less, then we find Trucy's panties in the muffler of that same car. Now we find the noodle stand at the scene of a murder… being pulled by the victim… these are all connected…. But how?_

"Hey, look, a knife!" Clay suddenly said. I turned to see him standing near one of the blue tarps.

"A 'shiv' to be precise," Ema said, walking over.

"Ooh… lingo!" Trucy said brightly.

"The defendant, Wocky Kitaki, is the son of known gangsters. The police are assuming this belongs to him," Ema explained.

 _Wait, but wasn't the murder weapon a pistol…?_ I leaned closer, noticing something. "Huh? Look at this, there's a handprint on this shiv," I said.

"A handprint? Then there might be a fingerprint!" Ema sounded excited. "Let's investigate!" she said, pulling a small bottle of white powder and a brush from her pocket. "This is fingerprint powder," she explained, handing the three of us a pair of gloves, and giving me the powder. "First, find a fingerprint."

"How about this one?" Clay asked, pointing to one.

"Hm… I don't know…" she muttered.

"This one looks more complete," I said, pointing to a different one. Ema looked at it.

"Ah! You're right!"

 _Wow, she's practically glowing with excitement…_ I thought, watching the detective.

"Okay, focus, Apollo. First, sprinkle some aluminum powder over the print. The oil left by the print absorbs the aluminum powder, so you just dust it on, and blow it off!" she explained.

"B-blow?" Trucy asked.

"It's like whistling. You know how to whistle, don't you? Just put your lips together…" Ema explained, puckering her lips to give us an example.

"Go ahead, Polly. Put your lips together," Clay said slyly. I stepped on his foot, and he hissed. I then looked down at the knife.

"Alright, let's give this a shot," I said, carefully sprinkling a layer of the dust onto the fingerprint. Once I was sure it was covered, I carefully blew the excess dust off.

"Wow! Amazing! It's like magic!" Trucy breathed once a crystal clear fingerprint appeared. Ema chuckled.

"Isn't it though?" She then looked closely. "Hmm… good… clear… Quite impressive!" she complemented, looking up at me with a grin. "Next, to match the print. The police office has samples so you can tell whose finger this print belongs to," she explained, pulling out a file.

"Hmm…. That doesn't sound like as much fun as actually finding the print," I chuckled. Ema grinned, opening the file and showing it to me.

"Ok, pick the person whose print you think this is. You probably have a good idea whose knife this already is," she said. I studied the profiles, before sighing.

"So… the fingerprints do belong to the defendant," I said once I was sure they were a match.

"Yes! Isn't it amazing? Ah, the power of science. It's my life," she said, her grin nearly too big for her face.

"Apollo, she's…sparkling," Trucy muttered.

"And I'm dimming," I replied.

"Look sharp, sprits up!" Ema said encouragingly. "The real fight is yet to come!"

"Chin up, Apollo!" Clay said, clasping my shoulder.

 _The trial hasn't even started and I'm already losing…_ I thought as I added notes about the knife to my court record. I then looked around, wondering as to what to do next.

"Hey, look, a trashcan!" Clay suddenly said. "Don't all good detectives get their best clues from trashcans?" he asked. I groaned at that, but then remembered how I found that mirror in the first trashcan.

"Yeah…" I groaned, moving forward and peeking in.

"You and your trash cans!" Trucy said, who evidently hadn't heard Clay. "Go ahead, knock yourself out."

"Please, can't you see I'm doing my…" I froze, my brain taking a moment to process what I was seeing. "Huh? L-look! Another pair of underwear!?" I gasped.

"Wow, Polly! You're a genius at finding panties!" Trucy said brightly, causing Clay to burst out laughing. I blushed brightly, know his mind jumped back to a certain incident in college including a dare and a panty-raid I refused to partake in.

I was finding panties all over my side of the room for weeks after that.

"S-stop saying that!" I snapped, causing Clay to laugh harder and Trucy to look really confused. I was glad Ema wasn't in earshot. I looked at them again. "Wait, these aren't…" I trailed off.

"Th-they're not mine!" Trucy exclaimed.

 _Could these have been stolen too?_ I wondered, adding them to my Court Record. I then turned back to Ema.

"Why are you blushing…?" she asked. Clay snickered again, only for me to step on his other foot.

"Ow!" he hissed.

"No reason," I said, pulling out my notebook. "Could you tell us a bit more about the victim?

"Well, let's see…" Ema mused. "Apparently he's the physician at a clinic in the area. Quite well off, too, from the sound of it. The Clinic's name is… the Meraktis Clinic," she explained.

"Hmm… maybe that's why the cop car was parked there?" Trucy asked.

"What? You've been to the clinic?" Ema asked.

"Well, the owner of the noodle stand lives right next door," I explained.

"Ah, right. The case of the stolen noodle stand." Ema shook her head. "So that means… Dr. Meraktis stole the stand and pulled is all the way here?" she asked.

"That would seem to be the case…" I replied.

"But… why?" Clay asked.

"Don't ask me!" I said. I then shook my head with a sigh, turning back to Ema. "Um… could you tell us a bit about the defendant? He's the only son of the Kitaki Family, yes…?" I asked.

"Wocky Kitaki," Ema said, studying her notebook. "I don't know if he is the boss's son, but he's certainly throwing his weight around… violently. In the detention center."

"I see," Trucy said.

"Why was he arrested in the first place?" I asked. Ema studied me.

"You are a defense attorney now, aren't you?" she mused, and I nodded. "You're not his, by any chance?"

"Er, actually… yes, I am," I said. A look of pity flashed across Ema's face.

"Well, we have a witness to the moment of the crime," she sighed.

"Eh…?" I asked.

"The witness called the police. They'll be testifying during the trial tomorrow," she finished.

"Whaaaaaaa-!?" Clay gasped. My stomach dropped to my feet, remembering Dad's reaction when he found out who my client was.

I was doomed.

"So, have you met the defendant?" Ema asked.

"Ah. Uh… No," I admitted.

"Visiting hours are almost over at the detention center. You might think about wrapping up here and heading over," she said. There was an odd tone to her voice, but I couldn't place it.

"Good idea," I said, before sighing. "I don't know what good it'll do. We have a witness and a knife with prints… I've got a bad feeling about this…" I grumbled.

"Don't worry," Ema said with a grin. "It's like a Wright tradition."

"You should know that from reading all of Daddy's case files!" Trucy said brightly. I just groaned, allowing her and Clay to drag me along.

…

"I'm sorry. Meeting hours for the day are all done," the guard said as we walked into the visitor's room. On the way there, I had pulled my silk hat and cape off, putting them back in my bag, happy it worked.

I didn't feel quite so hurt anymore.

"But we still have three minutes!" Clay argued.

"I'll put in your request, but don't expect anything. The father's talking in the private room with him," the guard said.

"The father? You mean like a priest?" I asked.

"I mean the suspect's father, Mr. Winfred 'Big Wins' Kitaki himself," the man said, and I noticed he was looking a little pale.

 _Not someone I care to meet…_

"…Die you-!"

"…You're the one on your way out, old-!"

The four of us sat in silence for a moment, before the guard looked at the door. "Ah. They're here…"

Just then, a large, tan man in a black kimono barged out.

 _Whoa! This guy radiates power!_ I thought, before noticing more about him. _Power… with a cute apron?_ I wondered, studying the bright, cheery yellow apron with an adorable chibi fox on the front. Clay coughed softly, and I elbowed him.

"You Wocky's lawyer?" he growled.

"Y-yes, sir!" I said, all but saluting to the man.

"Well, I'm Big Wins Kitaki, fourth head of the Kitaki family… Capice?" he said.

"Er… actually, I came to speak to your son…" I said in a voice uncharacteristically soft for me, peeking around him to see if I could see the boy.

"…Mr. Wright," the man growled.

"Yes?" I whimpered, standing up straight again.

"My son's innocent. He killed no one. If he were found guilty… it wouldn't be good. Capice?"

I felt the blood drain from my face.

"Y-yes! I'm all about capicing! Capice'd loud and clear!" I… squeaked.

"You gotta do more than just understand to make it," he growled. "You'll learn, though. Even if the lesson comes at the end of your short life."

The room spun around me, and my stomach rolled. _I don't feel so good… why'd I take this job again…?_

Just then, the boy from Alita's picture stepped out of the room.

"What's the big idea, old man! You can't treat me like a kid no more, not now! You know I… I… I wanted to go to the clink! I like it here!" he growled.

"You… must be Wocky?" I said, forcing a smile. After all, Dad always said that a lawyer gives his biggest smile at the darkest of times.

"A G's not a G till he does hard time! Bizzoooy! You'll see. When I get out of here, things'll change!" Wocky said, crossing his arms.

If it wasn't for the fact that he was basically incriminating himself, I would have found him funny.

"Silence!" Mr. Kitaki snapped, before looking at me. "My apologies, Mr. Wright… He's usually such a nice boy."

 _Forgive me if I have a hard time believing that…_

"Ha! You can't take me under your wing this time, old man! You heard me! I dn't need no trial! I did it!" Wocky said. My stomach rolled again at these words, remembering what Mr. Kitaki had said moments ago.

"…I think that's enough for today, Mr. Wright. Don't let me down tomorrow," he said. The guard lead Wocky back to his cell, while Mr. Kitaki left. Looking around, I noticed Clay and Trucy peeking in through the door.

"Thanks for having my back," I grumbled, walking over. They just smiled innocently at me.

"He's scary…" Clay muttered.

"You think!?" I demanded, taking a deep breath as we excited the detention center. "So much for talking to our client…"

"But we made so much progress today! We even found my panties! I had fun, at least," Trucy said.

"Of course, the biggest mystery of all remains," I muttered, ignoring her. _How am I supposed to build a case for the trial!?_

"Oh, almost forgot, it's time for my show at the Wonder Bar! Mr. Winks misses you, Polly. You should come!" Trucy said. I sighed.

"Can't. I have to focus on the case…" I replied. Clay grinned, slinging an arm around me.

"No worries. I'll help you, Polly," he said. I rolled my eyes at the nickname as we began to walk back to the office. "So, Apollo," he asked.

"Hm?"

"What do you think a that detective?" he asked slyly.

"Wh-what!?" I spluttered.

…

 **A/N:** And this is where I shall end. I added Clay in after the fact, so I had to go back and edit, hehe.

Any guesses as to what Ema kept playing with in her pocket?


	17. 15-1: The Second Trial

**A/N:** FORGIVE ME FOR HOW LONG I'M TAKING WITH THIS FIC! It's just… the chapters are so long… and I have school work… and work work… and these chapters take hours to write. *sob*

But I shall push on!

 **Review Reply to Gamergirl:** Yay! I'm glad I'm making it better for you. I had fun with Clay, to be honest, hehe. You're kind of right about Ema, by the way. I have to decide when to have her reveal it. Hm… I'm glad you're enjoying it!

Now, ONWARD!

…

Chapter 15-1: The Second Trial

 _June_

I paced around the Defendant Lobby, my stomach churning. My first case had been nerve wrecking. This case was heart attack inducing.

Not only was it my first case without a mentor (and my second case overall), but if I didn't prove my client innocent, there was a good chance I'd be sleeping with the fishes.

Literally.

It didn't help that Trucy had decided to stay home with Dad today, who's 'old foot injury' was acting up. I groaned, dropping onto the couch and holding my head in my hands. I felt physically ill.

"Apollo?" An all too familiar and incredibly welcome voice said. My head snapped up, and I found Clay standing in front of me.

"What are you doing here?"

"Truce said you might need a co-counsel, since she was staying home with Mr. Nick," he said. I jumped up and hugged him.

"Thank you, thank you!" I blurted. He laughed, patting my back.

"I have to say, you don't seem nervous at all," Clay said sarcastically. I shook my head, laughing at that.

"A little," I admitted, letting him go. "But you never studied law…" I realized.

"Yeah I did, when I was helping you study. Remember?" he said. I nodded.

"That's right."

"I know how you can get rid of those nerves though," Clay said with a grin. I chuckled and took a deep breath.

"I'M APOLLO WRIGHT, AND I'M FINE!" I yelled.

"…I'm fine! I'm fine! You know what I'm saying!?" the dulcet tones of my client suddenly yelled. I fell quiet and looked over.

"Uh… G-good morning!" I said, forcing a smile. Clay grinned from next to me, giving a little wave.

"Yo, 'sup. Hit me with the guilty verdict, G! See if I care. You just hang loose and let things go with the flow. You know what I'm saying!?" Wocky Kitaki said, crossing his arms with a scowl.

"Uh, not really," I said, though I knew exactly what he was talking about. _Wait! This is my chance to talk to him!_

"Wocky! Don't be running your mouth like that in here!" a gravelly voice suddenly snapped from behind me. I jumped, my eyes widening as I recognized that voice. My heart attempted to escape as well.

Big Wins Kitaki was behind me.

"See, that's the difference between me and you, old man. I ain't afraid of no cops. Real G's can't keep it real till they spend some hard time in the pen," Wocky shot back with a not-very-intimidating scowl on his face. I could feel the anger radiating from the man who stood behind me.

"You have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," Mr. Kitaki growled.

"Uh, Apollo? It's time to go in…" Clay hissed softly. I groaned, dropping my face into my hands.

 _My worst fears realized… The trial's starting and I still haven't had a real talk with my client!_ I thought as we made our way into Courtroom four.

"Court is now in session for the trial of Wocky Kitaki," the Judge announced once everyone was settled. I stood up tall, trying to push my nerves away.

"The defense is ready, Your Honor," I announced.

"Ready to rock 'n' roll, Herr Judge," came the faux-accented voice from across the room. My head snapped over to face him.

"Uh-oh. It's the man from yesterday. Trucy's 'prince'," Clay muttered. I scowled.

 _Prosecutor Gavin. No wonder he was at the scene yesterday…_ I thought grimly.

"Long time no see, Prosecutor Gavin," the Judge said pleasantly. "Were you taking a leave of absence?"

"You know that little band I started in my free time?" the blond asked with a winning grin. "Thing is, we got real popular. Hard to say 'nein' to your fans when three of your singles go platinum, ja?"

"Oh… the Gavinners," Clay gasped softly. I looked at him.

"You know them?"

"Ex-Girlfriend. Big fan," he said by way of explanation.

"Ah."

"I see," The Judge hummed. "To be honest, I was a little concerned. I feared that you might still be distraught over that one trial…"

 _Zak's trial…_

"Not to worry, Herr Judge. I wouldn't miss this day in court for the world. It's worth even more than VIP passes to one of my concerts, ja? How could I pass up a chance to see the true strength…" he suddenly looked at me, "of the little boy who bested my brother?"

 _L-little boy!?_ I thought indignantly.

"It was worth canceling a show or two," he added with a smirk.

"Understood. You may give your opening statements to the court," the Judge said.

"Before that, I was thinking… is the air in this courtroom not a bit… serious?" Gavin asked. I sighed softly, reminded of a time seven years ago, when Dad was standing where I currently was, dealing with this… kid.

"It _is_ a court of law," the Judge said.

"That's no way to get the crowd jumping, Herr Judge."

"They're not supposed to jump! This is a courtroom!" the Judge argued.

"Achtung, baby!" Gavin yelled, pointing to someone in the back. Rock music suddenly started, and Clay groaned. "Today, we play it my way!"

 _What's that… noise?_

"Sometimes you have to get up in order to get down," Gavin flashed another grin. "To prosecuting!"

 _This is crazy! Are you drunk or something? This isn't one of your concerts!_

Gavin looked down at a sheet of notes in front of him, snapping along to the song. "The victim… Pal Meraktis, director of the Meraktis Clinic. The scene… People Park. He was found pulling a noodle stand," he said, making it sound a lot more dramatic then an opening statement really should.

"What in the world was a doctor doing pulling a noodle stand!?" the Judge demanded in surprise.

"Yes, I believe… you will only find that out by asking the defendant, right here, right now. Because it's an undeniable truth that he shot the victim!" Gavin announced. I scowled, slamming my fists down on bench in front of me.

"What do you mean, 'undeniable?'" I demanded. Gavin smirked at me.

"If you are going to glare at anyone, Herr Wright, glare at the punk in the defendant's chair. His crime was witnessed quite clearly, you see," Gavin said. I narrowed my eyes slightly.

"Very well," the Judge said, cutting across my cleverly crafted retort. "Please admit this witness to the court."

Suddenly, a guitar riff played through the court, Gavin's hands moving as though he were the one playing it. "Nein! Not yet!" he called once the riff w as over. "First, there is a little matter to be cleaned up…"

 _Could you talk without the accompaniment?_ I thought scathingly as Clay snickered beside me.

"How is this guy a prosecutor?" he demanded softly.

"What is it, Prosecutor Gavin?" the Judge asked.

"The 'motive,' Herr Judge. Why did the little punk do it? Why did he kill the director of the Meraktis Clinic?" Gavin said.

" _Objection!_ " I yelled, pointing at the blond man. "Not so fast! The defendant doesn't have to explain that!" I snapped.

"Oh?" Gavin asked with an amused smile. "But what if the defendant specifically requests to do so? As he did this morning? I want to 'give a shout out to all my homeys!' I believe he said," Gavin said.

"Whaaaaat!?" the Judge gasped as my head snapped around to face Wocky. He had his arms crossed, a smirk that he probably thought was bad-ass playing across his face.

Going by everything he's said so far, this seemed _exactly_ the type of thing he'd do.

"You're dead," Clay said softly, patting my shoulder sympathetically.

"I'm dead," I replied.

"Well, this is highly unusual. But… the court will now hear from the defendant concerning his motive in the crime!" the Judge said. A bailiff accompanied the boy to the stand, where he crossed his arms, attempting to look tough. "So… you, son, are the defendant… Wocky, are you?" the Judge asked.

"I ain't your son, old man!" Wocky snapped. I cringed.

"So dead," Clay breathed.

"You step to a Kitaki, you best be prepared to step strong!"

"You 'step' to a public official, you'd best be prepared to step into jail," Gavin replied.

"Got to hand it to him," Clay muttered. "Wocky sure has guts."

 _It's not HIS guts I'm worried about…_

"Well then, the court will now hear testimony on the defendant's motive… from the defendant himself!" the Judge announced. Wocky grinned.

"I'll tell you one thing, that doctor was a quacker! Someone had to show him what's what! I was in his clinic 'bout half a year ago. He messed up my op something bad. And then he just lets me go, without a word." Wocky shook his head with a scowl. "See ya later, bye! So I gotta go in, get another doc to patch me up again! That was the day I done figured it out. No O.G.'s gonna let that pass! That's why I went to his pad that night, know what I'm saying!?" Wocky finished with a scowl.

"You're saying you were one of the victim's patients!?" the Judge gasped.

"Lotta stuff goes down when you're keeping it real on the street. Tru dat." Wocky crossed his arms, shaking his head. "I tell you one thing, that doc was wack!"

"Hmm…" the Judge hummed thoughtfully. "Very well, the defense may begin the cross-examination."

"First time hearing about all of this?" Clay asked, arms crossed as he watched Wocky.

"Yep."

 _And I can't believe this, either…_

Taking a deep breath, I got started.

"So you were a patient at the Meraktis Clinic half a year ago?" I asked. "For what reason?"

"I had what you might call a 'mark of honor'," Wocky explained.

"Can you explain precisely what was wrong?" Gavin asked.

"We had a little run in with the Rivales Family," he explained.

"Creative name," Clay said with a small grin.

"That's when I pulled a jack move… and ran into an ambush. G busted a cap right in me," Wocky explained.

"According to my sources… you 'couldn't stand the stress of waiting… and ran in fifteen minutes before the appointed time.' …By yourself," Gavin said with a smirk.

"Hey!" Wocky snapped. "I was more than a match for those guys!"

"So you were carried to the Meraktis Clinic from there?" the Judge asked.

"Apparently he was shot in the heart," Gavin said offhandedly.

 _Shot in the heart and he's still alive!?_ I thought in shock.

"Trucy can catch bullets between her teeth," Clay added helpfully. I sighed at that, but a small part of me knew he was making jokes to keep my stress levels down and help me focus.

"The bullet stopped just short of my thumper, you know what I'm saying?" Wocky said, thumping his chest with his fist. "I woulda been golden if it weren't for that wack doc! Can't even taking out a stupid bullet!"

"…So, as you say, the surgery was a failure," Gavin said.

"That ain't all of it, homes!" Wocky snapped. "Remember, he just let me leave without even telling me!"

"What do you mean, he just let you go without telling you?" I gasped in surprise.

"It sounds as though Herr Doktor wished to hide his mistake…" Gavin said with a smirk.

"That accent is actually kind of annoying," Clay muttered, before shaking his head. "Though I can't blame, err… Herr Doktor," he added. I glanced over at Mr. Kitaki before nodding in agreement.

"Seriously…"

"He's a liar, straight up! He's a badder G than me!" Wocky snapped.

"So, this bullet is still…?" I started, before trailing off.

"You know it!" Wocky said, before putting a hand to his chest again, this time more gentle. "I can still feel it… Right there in my chest, pressin' up against my heart!"

"'You words are like a bullet shot straight into my hearts.' …or something to that effect? Incidentally, that's from one of our hit singles," Gavin said thoughtfully.

"No one here cares about your music," Clay muttered, and I had to turn my snort into a cough.

"Well, that sounds like a straightforward case of malpractice!" the Judge said.

"Word, J-man. Weren't no accident, that's fo' shizzle," Wocky said. I shook my head, thinking over his testimony once more.

"So, you 'went to his pad'…?" I asked. "Did you have an appointment to meet with the victim? In the park, perhaps?"

"You out of your mind!?" Wocky demanded. "Who makes an appointment to get the drop on someone!? I came ready to fight my way into that clinic of his. Shortest way to the clinic from my place is through that park, know what I'm saying?" he explained.

 _...He's right. That does seem to be the shortest path_ , I thought, picturing a map of the area in my head.

"There I was, cold walking through the park," Wocky started again. "When he comes popping up out of nowhere, right before my eyes! I figured someone up on high was looking out for me, know what I'm saying?"

"Hmm…" the Judge hummed. "It seems that there were issues with this doctor."

"Man, putting him down was like doing the world a favor!" Wocky said.

"Wocky!" I exclaimed. "Please consult your lawyer before saying things like that," I nearly begged.

"So, which is the more difficult client? Wocky… or your Dad?" Clay asked, amusement lacing his voice. I stepped on his foot, and he hissed, elbowing me.

"But, why did this mistake only come to light that day?" the Judge asked.

"It was found during the Family health check-up," Gavin announced.

"The F-Family check-up?" I asked. Great, another thing I didn't know about until now.

"That was the wackest thing of all! All us G's lining up, taking eye exams 'n' all that," Wocky shook his head. "I don' know why we be needing all that! Better to die young than fade away, bizzoy!"

"…A relief to hear," Gavin said, and I suddenly felt sick to my stomach, wondering what new surprise he was about to spring on the court.

"Eh? Wh-what's a relief!?" Wocky demanded.

"Oh? Did your father not tell you? That bullet you carry so close to your heart… if not attended to immediately… it could kill you," Gavin announced.

"Wh-whaaaat!?" I gasped, lurching back.

"Dude…" Clay breathed.

"Yes, Herr Doktor Meraktis had knowledge concerning this ticking 'time bomb' in you. Knowledge… that could have saved your life," Gavin said.

"No way!" Wocky said, shaking his head. I could hear fear in his voice though. "Th-that's wacked!"

"There is proof," Gavin said. "Your check-up report." He held up the file in question, and I quickly took note of it in my court record. "How ironic that you would kill the one man capable of helping you. You're almost as careless as he was!" he said, laughing. I frowned, trying to figure out if I should object. I quickly glanced at Wocky, who's eyes were wide and scared looking.

"Well, now that the place is hopping… Let's get this gig started!" Gavin said with a grin.

"S-started…?" the Judge asked, shocked.

"We've had enough of a warm-up act, ja? Time to hear from the witness!" the prosecutor announced. Wocky was lead from the stand, his eyes glued to the floor. He looked pale.

"Wocky's tame all of a sudden," Clay said. I watched after my client, my heart going out to him.

"I'm a little uneasy myself," I said, before glancing at Clay. _Is this Gavin's strategy…?_

A tall man, wearing graduation robes and cap, carrying a large book, stepped up to the stand. He looked vaguely familiar.

"So," Gavin started. "You will tell us your name and occupation."

"My name… is Wesley Stickler," he started, flipping idly through the pages of his book. "By 'occupation' I take it you refer to some labor that 'profits' society at large, and supports a livelihood under which definition I must confess to being 'unemployed' however, we must acknowledge the meaning of 'identity' which is commonly attached to this notion of 'occupation,' and once we have accepted this reality, we see that our confusion is not Gestalt, per se, but derives instead from the 'vagueness' inherent in all representations of thoug—"

"By which he means to say that he is a student," Gavin said, cutting off the man's tirade. "A junior at Ivy University if I'm not mistaken?"

"Oh lord, I hope neither of us were like that in college," Clay groaned.

"Probably not. He's probably a philosophy student," I said with a small grin.

"Yes," the man said, answering Gavin. "In the Department of Science and Engineering," he added. Clay suddenly groaned.

"Oh god, I remember him now!" he moaned softly. I grinned. _That's right. Clay graduated from that Department. Hehe…_

Stickler continued talking, until he was once more cut off.

"Herr Stickler, please direct your curiosity to the case at hand today," Gavin said.

"Very well, Mr. Stickler," the Judge said. "Please testify to the court about what you saw on the night of the crime."

"You ask, quite simplistically, 'what I saw.'" Stickler started again, and I started remembering the boy Clay sometimes complained about, and how he had a big, know-it-all mouth. I wondered if this was him. "However, we must understand that homo sapiens possess two eyes, each of these designed to receive and interpret data, sending images in the form of signals to the—"

"Just testify!" Clay suddenly snapped. Stickler looked at him, before frowning with a huff, looking away. Going by the way Clay's eyebrow was twitching, it was safe to assume I was correct.

"That night, I passed through the park on my way home from shopping… when I saw them!" Stickler started. "One man, pulling a stand. Another man, facing him. I saw them quite clearly. The man facing the victim was the defendant. In his hand he held… yes, a pistol! It was pointed at the man pulling the stand. A shot! The bullet hit the man pulling the stand from the front, square in the forehead!" he explained.

"Hmm… what there anyone else in the park at that time?" the Judge asked.

"I can say with 100% accuracy that there was not," Stickler replied with a self-important air.

"The pistol our witness refers to… is this," Gavin said, holding an evidence baggy up with a pistol inside. I quickly made note of it.

"Very well. Mr. Wright, you may cross-examine the witness," the Judge said. I nodded.

"…Yes, You Honor," I replied, before taking a deep breath.

"I bet something's wrong with his testimony. Stick it to him, Apollo," Clay said. I grinned and nodded.

"Can do," I said, before turning to Stickler.

"Mr. Stickler, how can you be so sure it was the defendant you saw at the scene of the murder?" I demanded. "The crime took place at night! It would have been too dark!"

"…Perhaps I was remiss in not mentioning this earlier," Stickler mused.

"Huh?" I asked.

"You see, in class, I always sit in the backmost seat. Do you know why?" he asked.

 _Do I look like I care!?_ I replied silently.

"Because I do not wish anyone to copy my perfect notes!" Stickler replied, his eyes sliding over to look at Clay. Guess he recognized him from a few classes.

"Excuse me?" Clay demanded, his arms crossed as he quirked an eyebrow at the science junior, who seemed unfazed.

"And this relates to your testimony how?" the Judge asked before Stickler could answer Clay.

"I mention this to illustrate my predisposition to that which is 'perfect.' It was dark, you say? Yet there are lights in the park. If I say the defendant was in the park that night, then he was in the park that night. It is a hard, immutable fact," Stickler replied like it should be obvious.

"That presumptuous know-it-all!" Clay growled softly. I patted his shoulder.

"Yeah, but he seems to be telling the truth," I said before sighing, thinking over his testimony again. Something suddenly stuck out to me, and I quickly checked over my evidence again, noticing a contradiction between the pistol and the testimony.

"Are you absolutely certain only one shot was fired?" I asked.

"Yes. Of course it was one shot. Why do you ask?" Stickler replied.

"Mr. Stickler. According to the Court Record, the pistol was fired twice. A clear contradiction!" I replied.

" _Objection!"_ Gavin yelled. "Good eyes, Herr Wright. You're cool. Real cool," he said.

"Eh? What?" I asked, thrown off guard by the sudden complement.

"Yet, there is no reason why this other shot had to have been fired that night," he continued.

 _Of… course._

"Meaning?" the Judge asked.

"The pistol came from the Kitaki Family mansion, ja? I think it's not unreasonable to assume the pistol had been fired once before that night. During perhaps… another altercation?" Gavin suggested with a smug look, snapping along to some tune in his head.

 _Ugh… he's got a point…_

"Judging from his expression, Apollo, I'd say that was a trap," Clay said. I thought about the testimony again, going over it in my head and comparing it to all of the other information we got so far. Suddenly, I got a burst of inspiration. Flipping through the evidence again, I smirked.

" _Objection!_ " I yelled. "That was not the only contradiction! Take a look at this!" I said, holding up my chosen piece of evidence.

"The… autopsy report?" the Judge asked. "Is there a problem with the autopsy report?"

"Well, yes. The problem is the location of the entry wound," I replied, thoughtfully pushing my finger against my forehead.

"The location?" the Judge asked. I dropped my hand and looked at the witness.

"You testified that the killer shot the victim 'square in the forehead,' did you not?" I asked him.

That was the wrong thing to do.

"Ah, I have already determined your 'angle' of inquiry," he started. "Allow me to explain. It is quite simple, really: First, understand that when I say 'square,' I speak not of the geometrical absolution. What do I mean by this? For example, the defection of a 'meter' is 1,650,763.73 times the wavelength of the light emitted by a krypton particle, as we all know. In addition, it is a well known fact that krypton particles are rare, and invisible to the naked eye, which points to a basic fallacy in your line of reasoning, namely, that wh—" My eye twitched, and I could see Clay chewing on his tongue, from the way his jaw was working.

"Mr. Wright," the Judge suddenly said. I looked up, thankful for the break in the buzzing of Stickler's voice.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Was your objection to these, er, krypton particle things?" he asked. I opened my mouth to answer, only for Gavin to interrupt.

"This is the big time, and you are obsessed with something so small? You disappoint me."

"N-n-no!" I stuttered, thrown off guard. "I'm obsessed with something big!" I suddenly realized how I sounded. "I mean, there's a bigger, less nitpicky problem here!" I tried again.

"Do tell…" the Judge said.

"Just look at the autopsy report!" I said. "The location of the entry wound was… the _right temple_!"

"T-temple?" Stickler asked, sounding almost faint.

"Mr. Stickler, you said quite clearly that the victim was shot 'square in the forehead!' That's a contradiction!" I announced pointing at the man. My confidence suddenly dipped. _Isn't it? It is, right?_

" _Objection!"_ Gavin suddenly yelled. "Herr Justice… Oh, Herr Justice," he said in a disappointed tone, shaking his head.

"Yes…?" I asked, almost scared.

"Your tactics are outdated. Trying to shake the witness by objecting to trifles? Surely you haven't forgotten the fatal wound your father suffered seven years ago?" he asked. I growled, slamming my fists onto the bench. Before I could say anything, though, Clay grabbed my wrist.

"He's just trying to rile you up, get you unfocused," he hissed. "You're onto something. Ignore the pop star and keep pushing your point."

"Right…" I said, taking a deep breath and wrenching my glare away from the prosecutor, turning it instead on Stickler, who seemed to wither under it. "According to your testimony, you said the forehead. The autopsy clearly states the right temple. That means there's a contradiction, one you didn't see, despite your perfect view!" I reasoned, pointing at the man.

"Urk!" he gasped.

"Hey, Herr Forehead…" Gavin suddenly said. I lurched back, my head whipping to look at him again.

 _F-"forehead"!?_

"Let us imagine you are walking through the park. You see two men facing each other. One with a pistol trained on the other. What would you do, Herr Forehead?" he asked. I ignored the nickname, trying hard not to let him under my skin.

"Well…" I thought about it. "I would try to stop them. I'd probably shout 'stop!'" I answered honestly.

"And you, Herr Assistant?" he asked, looking at Clay, who crossed his arms thoughtfully.

"Either that, or make some kind of surprised noise," he answered.

"And you, Herr Stickler?" He turned to the witness stand with a small smirk. "What did you do, I wonder?"

"Ack!" I gasped, realizing where he was going with this. _If the victim turned his head at the last moment…_ I gulped at that thought, watching my beautiful contradiction die.

"Ah… yes. Thank you for jogging my memory," Stickler said with a small smile.

"It sounds like an addendum to the testimony is required," the Judge said.

Stickler nodded, starting once more. "As soon as the killer raised his pistol, I took action. 'Cease this at once, you two!' I cried… with composure. The victim turned in the direction of my voice… and a shot rang out. Whereupon our cowardly killer, the defendant, appeared to have become frightened. Tossing the pistol aside, he fled from the scene," he explained. I thought over everything he said, trying to find the contradiction. It wasn't as clear as the last one.

"I see," the Judge hummed thoughtfully. "So you attempted to stop the crime."

"Indeed," Stickler said. "…With composure."

"Composure my foot," Clay snorted. "He probably startled the killer with that high pitched voice of his, causing the gun to accidently go off…"

"Th-that doesn't really matter now, unfortunately," I reminded him, causing him to sigh.

"Right."

"Let us consider this new testimony, shall we?" Gavin said, gaining the attention of everyone again. "Observe the diagram, if you would." A diagram of the scene of the crime appeared on the monitors of the courtroom. "The witness… Mr. Stickler, was it? Stood here." A 'W' appeared perpendicular to the killer and victim, to the left. "He shouted 'Oh stop! Please!' or something of this nature. And the victim responded by looking in the witness's direction! If the killer were to have fired at just that moment… as we can see, the bullet would have struck the right temple, as in the report," Gavin explained.

"That does seem to be the case," the Judge mused. I narrowed my eyes slightly. _'If'? 'Seems'? Dad had been yelled at or penalized for using such unsure terms before. Course, the prosecution and judge are always treated better then the defense…_

"Witness the power of a Junior in Ivy University's Department of Science!" Stickler boasted. Clay groaned softly.

"He gives people like me a bad name…" he growled.

"Very well, Mr. Wright, you may cross-examine the witness," the Judge said. I nodded, thinking over everything again.

"So, you saw a raised pistol," I said, a finger to my forehead thoughtfully. "Weren't you frightened?"

"It can be said we students of Ivy University know no fear," Stickler responded. Clay and I glanced at each other before quickly looking away, trying to kill the urge to laugh. "The moment I saw that pistol, my inner sense of justice compelled me to take action!"

"Maybe he should be a law student," Clay muttered. I stepped on his foot, and he gasped softly.

"That was certainly brave of you," the Judge suddenly said. "You might have gotten shot!"

"Eh!?" Stickler gasped.

"You certainly were lucky. If I were in the killer's shoes, I certainly wouldn't have left a witness behind," Gavin said with an easy going grin. Stickler's face became slick with sweat as he looked between the two men.

"Wow. He had no idea of the danger he was in…" Clay muttered, shaking his head.

"R-Regardless, I attempted to halt the bloodshed!"

"Did you hear the gunshot at the same time as the victim turned?" I asked, switching tracks.

"Indeed. I would say 'about' the same time, to be precise," Stickler replied.

"And the victim didn't ask you for help?" I pressed.

"It can be said that he didn't have time to ask. He didn't even have time to take a single step," Stickler sighed tragically. I shook my head at that.

"The killer defiantly fired because of Stickler startling him with that voice of his," Clay said.

"Don't say that too loudly," I muttered, thinking back to the testimony. "You didn't try to apprehend the criminal?" I asked in a louder voice.

"It all happened so fast, I'm afraid I hadn't the time," Stickler admitted.

"Something's odd," Clay suddenly said. I looked over to where he was crossing his arms, looking thoughtful.

"What is?" I asked.

"The killer was in a hurry, right? He shot, then tossed the pistol and ran…" Clay reasoned

"According to the testimony, that's what happened, yes," I said.

"In that case, shouldn't we, or at least you and Trucy, have found something? Something that we didn't find?" Clay asked. I thought for a moment before gasping.

"You're right!" I said, before turning to the court. "Wait a second!" I called.

"Tsk, tsk, another misleading request," Stickler said. "Yet you're so beholden to your own mode of 'discourse' you can't see how it affects you!"

"Um… come again?" I asked, confused and distracted. Part of me wondered if he did this on purpose.

"Wait a 'second,' you say? A 'second?' Are we intended to wait just that, a single second, one sixtieth of a minute? That's hardly enough time to draw a breath, let alone make a statement in court! Now, had you asked for a longer period of time, say, three minutes, thirty-five seconds, th—"

Thankfully, the judge cut him off. "Mr. Wright."

"Yes, your Honor?" I asked, looking up at the man.

"Am I to understand you are objecting to the length of a second?"

"Yes!" I realized what he asked. "I mean, no! Here, just look at the pistol," I said, pulling it out and presenting it. "It doesn't have a single fingerprint on it!"

"Ah, a common ploy, made all the more common, I fear, by the prevalence of television. Criminals these days are loathe to leave fingerprints," Stickler sighed. I shook my head.

"But wait! You said the killer tossed the gun and ran!" I reminded him.

"That's right!" Clay added with a smirk, crossing his arms. "He didn't have time to wipe the gun for prints!"

Stickler's eyes grew wide at that realization.

"Ah, the two little boys sticking it to the university student. There's a song in there…" Gavin said with a smirk. I scowled deeply at him.

"We're not little," I reminded him, making his laugh.

"Then let's think like adults, shall we?"

"Eh?" both Clay and I asked.

"What if the killer… the defendant, was wearing gloves?" Gavin pointed out.

"Huh. Didn't think about that one," Clay muttered. A slow smirk was crossing my face, though, as I remembered the little lesson in science Ema gave us yesterday.

"There are two reasons why the defendant could not have been wearing gloves," I said. "The first is that the court record is very clear about the gun being wiped for prints. The second, is this," I held up the evidence baggy containing the knife we found yesterday.

"Is that… a sword? I saw one of those on the late night movie last night!" The Judge said brightly.

 _Great, a sleep-deprived judge…_ "This knife was found at the scene of the crime… with the defendant's prints on it," I explained.

"His prints!?" the Judge gasped.

"This single piece of evidence proves two things," I stated, having a sudden epiphany. "One, that what the defendant threw down _wasn't a pistol_. Two, that the defendant _wasn't wearing gloves!_ " I announced. The court erupted with the usual mutterings. The judge slammed his gavel a few times before looking at me.

"Hmm… indeed!" he hummed.

"Oh, Herr Forehead?" Gavin said. "You're forgetting two other things you've just proven."

"Huh?" I asked.

"One, that the man the witness saw was the defendant, Mr. Wocky Kitaki. Two, that the defendant was holding a knife, with the intent of harming the victim!" the prosecutor pointed out.

"Oh," I muttered. The back of my neck suddenly felt like it was on fire, and without turning, I know it was Big Wins Kitaki glaring at me. Perhaps trying to decide which blade he was going to decapitate me with.

"Hmm… indeed!" the Judge hummed again. "This court is of the opinion that our witness is fond of making assumptions. In that light, I believe it would behoove us to hear what really occurred… with less assuming, please!"

"It's always the saem with you people," Stickler sighed. "'Mark left the house on foot, and five minutes later, his brother left after him. How long would it take for Mark's brother to catch up to him… assuming that Mark never had to stop for a traffic light!' 'Assuming'… yes, that's what I said. 'Assuming!' As if that were a probably situation at all! Yet here you are 'assuming' that my 'assumption' is no better!" he ranted.

The judge cleared his throat. "What this court 'assumes'… is that the witness will testify as to what happened after the shot was fired!"

Stickler sighed once more, but took a deep breath.

"I could not prevent the killer from leaving the scene. Nor could I simply leave the scene in good conscience. Ergo! I used my cell phone to call the police. Until the police arrived at the scene ten minutes later, I saw no one else," he concluded. I felt my bracelet tighten, but couldn't spot any tells or lies.

"Why didn't you chase the killer?" I asked.

"He was, as you say, a killer. Of course, I could have run him down, yet what would he have done when cornered? Sadly, it takes more than an aptitude for solving quadratic equations to know that," Stickler replied.

"Hmm…" the Judge hummed.

"Did the testimony earlier nor prove the defendant's presence at the scene? And do we not also now know that there was no one else there?" Gavin asked, before smirking. "It seems clear that we have our killer. Does it not?" he asked. The fire on the back of my neck intensified, and I started feeling sick.

"Does it not, Mr. Wright?" the Judge asked.

 _I-I'd better find a way to take this testimony down quick!_ I thought, trying to focus on what Stickler had said.

"Which way did the killer run?" I demanded.

"By that time, it was clear the killer had noticed me. Naturally, he ran in the opposite direction," Stickler said. I looked at the diagram.

 _That would mean he ran in the opposite direction from the Kitaki mansion…_

"Achtung!" Gavin snapped. "Don't even think about pointing out that he was going away from his home. All he had to do was look back once he was out of sight."

 _Ugh… how did he know that's where I was going…?_

"You were certainly composed for someone who had just witnessed a killing," I stated.

"If one is to devote one's life to the pursuit of science… one must never flinch at the sight of a little blood. Not be so moved by a chemical discovery that one drops one's flask upon the lab room floor," Stickler replied smoothly.

"Oooh, cool answer. Very cool," Gavin said with a grin. My stomach was rolling at this point.

 _Hmm… so nothing strange about how he acted…_

"You said you called the police. Wasn't your first thought to call an ambulance?" I demanded.

"It can be said that I have dabbled in medicine… The injury I witnessed, namely a single shot to the head, tends to result in death. Ergo, there was no need for me to call an ambulance! Oh… a perfect syllogism… a proof in three parts! Exquisite! Simply exquisite!" he sighed, his eyes brimming.

… _He actually looks like he's going to cry. I know I am…_ I thought, attempting to wipe some of the sweat off of my forehead.

"C-can you tell us in detail about those ten minutes?" I asked.

"I stood in a state of heightened awareness. Anything could happen at any moment. Anyone could appear from any direction!" Stickler explained.

"Is… that all…?" I asked.

"No one came. Nothing happened at all. I saw it all, which is to saw… I saw nothing," the student said with a shrug.

"It was late at night. It's not odd to think there would be few people around in the park," the Judge reasoned.

 _So he just stood there, watching? Hmm… not much to go on there. Not much to go on anything at all in this testimony!_ I thought over everything said once more, before dropping my head into my hands. _Argh! I can't find a single problem with that testimony!_

"…Had enough at last, Herr Forehead?" Gavin asked. I looked up at him, thinking everything over. My thoughts were starting to become muddled, though, in panic. I could feel Mr. Kitaki glaring at me from the gallery, and I knew Wocky was innocent. But how do I _prove_ it with a testimony like this!

"Nnk!" _Argh! There's nothing fishy about that testimony at all!_

"It appears there are no objections to the witness's current testimony.

"There are any number of ways to explain the lack of prints on the pistol, I assure you. Perhaps the killer really was wearing gloves which wiped the previous user's prints off. Then, after the deed was done, the knife fell out of his pocket as he was throwing the gun away. A mistake befitting a small-time punk, in my opinion," Gavin explained smoothly.

"No…" I breathed.

"It seems we've come to the end of the line here," the Judge sighed.

 _No… that can't be all!_ I thought. I could feel the heavy sweat on my face, and my neck felt even hotter then before.

"How unfortunate. It seems that you weren't cut out to stand on the same stage as me. Were you, Herr Forehead?" Gavin asked with a smirk.

"I believe this brings the cross-examination to a close. This court will now declare a verdict for the defendant, Wocky Kitaki," the Judge said, raising his gavel.

 _I'm dead. I just hope they leave Clay, Trucy, and Dad alone…_

"Gah!" Clay suddenly gasped from next to me. I whirled to find him clutching his chest, a pained look in his eyes. His breathing was quick and shallow as he fell to his knees.

"Clay!?" I gasped, dropping next to him.

"Herr Judge, I feel it would be wise to adjourn the court for a twenty minute recess," Gavin said, watching the two of us.

"Indeed. Bailiff! Get a Medic!" the Judge yelled, slamming his gavel. I was in a panic. What was wrong with Clay!? Did they push him too hard in his endurance training?

Would he be okay?

…

 **A/N:** And here we go! I got a lot of positive feedback last time for have Clay, so I decided to have him again, hehe.

Also, I played up on Apollo's fear of the Kataki threat, mainly because I feel like it should have been there in the game (I mean _come on_ ), how Clay and Phoenix reacted to the news of his client got to Apollo a little, and now he's worried about his family too.

Again, I'M SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG TO POST!


	18. 15-2: The Second Trial

**A/N:** I... couldn't sleep. Soooo... another chapter, another chapter!

 **Review Replies:**

Gamergirl: I really love that you're enjoying this so much! I'm having fun changing it for Clay. I wish we saw more of them together too. Who knows, Maybe we will in Spirit of Justice? If you know already, don't tell me! I want to wait and see! Thanks for still believing in me although I'm slow!

Guest: Gah! That was a mistake I didn't catch! It was supposed to be Herr Wright… I hope that didn't happen too often last chapter! Thanks for reading though!

Here we go!

…

Chapter 15-2: The Second Trial

 _June_

"Clay! Clay!" I cried, tears in my eyes as I dropped next to where he was laying on the couch in the defendant's lobby. A medic looked at me with a small, patient smile.

"He's alright. His stress asthma just acted up, and he didn't have his inhaler. Just give him a few minutes rest, and he'll be good to go," she said, packing up her stuff before leaving the lobby.

I watched after her for a few minutes before looking down at Clay with a quirked eyebrow. "Stress asthma?"

He opened his eyes and gave me a crooked grin.

"I had to think of something, and that's a real illness!" he defended himself.

"Clay! Don't you think I'm under enough stress as it is!?" I demanded, punching his shoulder, hard. He winced slightly, shaking his head.

"That's just it, Apollo. You're freaking out too much. It's not letting you think straight about the case," he said.

"I have a target on my back if I loose this, Clay. _And I'm loosing_!" I exclaimed.

"You're focusing too much on that. Take a deep breath," he said. I sighed, but did as I was told. "Now, think about Stickler's testimonies. Every time he'd say something that turned out contradictory, you touched your bracelet," he said. I looked at him for a moment before looking down at my bracelet.

"I… did?" I asked.

" _Yes._ And I remember you telling me that every time your bracelet tightens, it's because someone around you is lying. And during that last testimony, you touched your bracelet, _again._ You need to focus, like you did with Orly. It might be the only way to get through this," he said. I stared at my bracelet for a few moments, thinking back to my first trial, before smiling up at Clay.

"You're right. Thanks, Clay," I said with a grin. He grinned back.

"No problem, Apollo. Now, let's get back in there and prove Wocky innocent!" Clay said with a huge grin. I grinned back.

We walked back into the courtroom once the recess was over and took our places once more.

"Court is now back in session," the Judge said. I smiled.

"Right. We're fine!" I announced. The Judge turned and looked at Clay with some concern.

"Are you sure, Mr…?"

"Terran. And yes, I'm sure," he said. "My stress asthma just acted up, that's all. I'm okay now," he assured the court. Gavin smirked.

"Perhaps next time you plan to stand with Herr Forehead in court, you could remember your inhaler. I fear quite a few of his trials might get… stressful," he said. Both Clay and I noticed a glint in his eyes.

"…I think he's on to me…" Clay muttered.

"I wish he would stop being so… so cool. And arrogant," I grumbled.

"Let us dispense with these niceties and get straight to the matter. What are your plans for our gifted witness?" Gavin demanded.

"R-right. The defense would like to request another cross-examination! B-because… Because I forgot to ask something," I said, finishing lamely.

"There was no issue with the witness's previous testimony. I will grant your request, however. But this court will not permit stalling for time!" the Judge said. I took a deep breath, centering myself and my focus on the witness.

"…Understood, your Honor. Witness, please repeat your testimony from just before the recess," I said.

"Al-alright," he muttered. I kept myself calm, my focus entirely on him, blocking everything else out. "I could not prevent the killer from leaving the scene. Nor could I simply leave the scene in good conscience. Ergo! I used my cell phone to call the police—"

" _Hold it!"_ I yelled, cutting him off. My bracelet had tightened around my wrist. "So you called immediately after witnessing the murder?" I asked.

"The police undoubtedly have a record of the call. Why not check with them?" Stickler replied.

"This is it, isn't it, Apollo?" Clay asked with a smirk. I nodded, allowing my focus to sharpen, specifically on Stickler. I could see every little twitch of each of his muscles, the tiny bead of sweat snaking it's way from his temple to the collar of his shirt, and each conscious and unconscious movement. Time seemed to slow as I watched him.

"Once more, Mr. Stickler, what did you do after the murder?" I asked.

"This is a waste of time," Stickler sighed. "I called the police on my cell phone!"

As soon as he mentioned his phone, his hand twitched, tensing and fiddling with the corner of a page in his book.

" _Gotcha!_ " I called.

"Mr. Wright? Do you have something to say?" the Judge asked. I smirked with a nod.

"Yes. Mr. Stickler… allow me to ask a simple question. Why did you fiddle with the page of your book just now? The very moment you mentioned your cell phone?" I asked. Stickler lurched back slightly.

"Wh-wh-what are you talking about?" he demanded. I smirked, suddenly remembering the phone Trucy and I found in the garage at the clinic.

"My I see your phone?" I asked.

"Urk!? Wh-why? Whatever for?" he asked.

"Show me, and you'll find out," I replied.

"W-well I can't! I don't have it, you see," Stickler admitted.

"You don't have it?" the Judge asked.

"…Mr. Stickler. Is this your cell phone?" I asked, pulling it out.

"Yeeeeeow! Wh-where did you get that!?" Stickler demanded.

"Where _did_ you find that?" Clay muttered.

"How strange, Mr. Stickler," I mused. Stickler stared at me, looking scared. "Can you explain why your cell phone is sitting here in my hand at this very moment?"

"Wait a minute!" the Judge gasped. "What is the meaning of this!?"

"This cell phone was found yesterday… in the Meraktis Clinic garage!" I revealed.

"The Meraktis… Why, that's where the victim lived!" the Judge gasped.

"Th-that's impossible!" Stickler gasped.

"Mr. Stickler, you lied to the court, didn't you? If your cell phone is here, how could you have called the police!?" I demanded.

"Uh… um… It.. It's true," Stickler sighed. "I didn't have my cell phone that night. That is why it can be said that I called the police from a public pay phone," he admitted.

"A pay phone! So you didn't call on your cell phone after all…" the Judge mused.

"Just where was this pay phone located, Mr. Stickler!?" I demanded as the map of the area surrounding the crime scene came on screen.

"Well, to indicate it with a startlingly high degree of accuracy… it was right around here," he admitted, pointing to a spot a bit ways away from the park and the Wright Anything Agency.

"That's… quite a ways from the park. But… but why did you lie?" the Judge asked.

"There can be only one reason," I said grimly. "He didn't want the court to know he had lost his cell phone. Because it was found… in the victim's garage!" I announced.

"Wh-wh-what are you saying!?" Stickler gasped.

"Mr. Stickler… you broke into the Meraktis Clinic garage on the night of the murder! This cell phone tells all!" I announced.

"B-but that's ridiculous! That makes it sound like… like I snuck into this fellow's garage to commit some crime!" Stickler gasped. "As though I were trying to kill him!"

"Well, Dr. Meraktis was killed that night," the Judge said.

"W-well y-yes, but no!" Stickler looked on the verge of a heart attack. "This line of reasoning has to be against the rules! Yes, it's true! I lost my cell phone! But you can't prove that I lost it that night!"

"Hmm…" the Judge hummed. "Well, Mr. Wright? If that cell phone was dropped the night of the murder… it does raise considerable suspicions as to a connection with the crime," he said.

"Now's your chance, Apollo! Stick it to Stickler!" Clay cheered quietly. I grinned.

"Just gotta prove his connection to the crime," I said, looking through the Court Record.

"You have evidence?" Gavin asked.

"Of course I have evidence!" I replied.

"Ooh, I like your swagger, Herr Forehead. Hit it!" Gavin replied.

"The court will see this evidence. Mr. Wright, 'hit it,' as they say!" the Judge added.

"The evidence that proves the cell phone was dropped on the night of the murder, is this!" I said, presenting the green, paint-smeared side-view mirror.

"That's… a side-view mirror?" the Judge asked.

"As it so happens, Dr. Meraktis's car was in an accident… that took place the night of the murder!" I announced.

"An accident!?" Stickler gasped.

"An accident," I confirmed. "It happened a little after nine that night, just outside People Park, our murder scene. Dr. Meraktis's car hit a pedestrian!" I explained.

"Wh-what are you trying to say?" the college student asked softly.

"From the absence of a mirror, it's clear that the car was parked after the accident. Which means it was parked there after nine PM on the night of the murder. If your cell phone had been dropped before the car was parked in that garage… then it would have been crushed. After all, it was lying on the ground, right under the wheel!" I explained. Stickler winced, but I wasn't done. "Ergo, Mr. Stickler! You know what that means? You did break into the victim's garage that night."

"This is most unexpected! Mr. Wright… are you naming the witness as a suspect in the murder of Pal Meraktis?" the Judge asked.

"N-no, stop!" Stickler pleaded. "This is too much! This can't be happening! P-P-P-P-Prosecutor! Say something!"

"I suppose it is worth saying this: No connection has been found between Wesley Stickler and Pal Meraktis. That is, other than this," Gavin said.

"I believe our next testimony will be most… revelatory. Is the witness prepared?" the Judge asked.

"Y-y-yes, Your Honor!" Stickler muttered.

 _I know that face… that's the face of guilt. Thing is… I got a bad feeling about this. Wait… no… he's not… is he?_

"That night… yes! I went to the supermarket," Stickler said, starting his next testimony. "I must have dropped my cell phone on my way back. And when I was walking through the park, I happened to witness the crime! I saw the killer, the victim, the stand… all as clear as day! It was him! I saw the defendant at the scene!" he testified.

"Yes… but your cell phone was lying in a garage," the Judge said, for once having a smart moment.

"Ah, yes, well, as you can see, my model of cell phone has a defect… it is given to rolling!" Stickler said. "It's quite a pain when I drop it alongside the road, you know."

"…Looks like a normal cell phone to me. In any case, Mr. Wright, the cross-examination, please," the Judge asked. I nodded, rubbing my wrist.

 _No nervous habit this time. Looks like I'm on my own._

"So you went shopping that night," I clarified thoughtfully, pulling my cards from my pocket and shuffling them. "Which means… you were holding a grocery bag when you witnessed the murder taking place?"

"Eh!?" Stickler gasped. "W-well, yes, of course…"

"Incidentally, the prosecution has received no report of this domestic detail," Gavin added helpfully. Clay tipped his head to the side, while I glanced at the prosecutor, wondering what he was doing. I then looked back at Stickler, giving him a small smirk.

"What happened, Mr. Stickler? Did you make the bags… disappear?" I asked, making the deck vanish from my hands. From the corner of my eye, I saw Clay face palm, but I ignored him.

"No! I mean, yes!" Stickler said. "I did go shopping, really." My bracelet didn't react to his words, so I knew he was telling the truth. "I walked around the supermarket, trying out the free samples… it's… a deeply spiritual time for me," he admitted. I rose an eyebrow at him, making my cards reappear so I could continue my shuffling.

"I'm sure the store clerks would disagree," the Judge replied. Clay snorted quietly.

"I wish sampling free food counted as a religion…" he muttered.

"You would," I muttered back.

"In any case, that night… I sampled to my heart's content, and was on my way back home, yes, cutting through the park" he said.

"And you dropped your phone in front of the clinic?" I asked.

"Why…" he hesitated. "Yes. That's correct," he said.

"Talk about a suspicious pause…" Clay muttered, crossing his arms.

"Seriously," I muttered before clearing my throat. "Which entrance did you enter the park from?"

"Well, to be exact… One might say that I went in from the entrance closest to the Meraktis Clinic," Stickler answered.

"The same entrance our victim used," Gavin added helpfully.

"Did you notice anything when you entered? Wheel marks from a noodle stant, for instance?" I asked hopefully. Stickler rose an eyebrow at me.

"I have no recollection of such a thing, no. Yet, though I might have missed the tracks, I cold not miss what happened next! I can be a keen observer… of the obvious, you might say," he said. I groaned almost silently, really getting annoyed with the man. _You saw the murder. WE GET IT!_ I thought. Clay put a sympathetic hand on my shoulder, and I sighed softly, going back to my shuffling.

"What did you see?" I asked.

"I saw the killer, the victim, the stand… all as clear as day!" he replied.

 _This part of the testimony is the key,_ I thought. _But what is it about this testimony?_ I thought hard about his words for a few minutes, before the answer hit me.

"Do you happen to remember the noodle stand?" I asked.

"Quite well, yes!" Stickler replied. "For a student of the sciences, keen observation and healthy curiosity are vital!" he said, casting a superior look in Clay's direction, who rolled his eyes boredly. "I remember everything! I could even read the sign! I believe it said… Er… 'NOODLE.'" He hesitated before nodding to himself. "Yes, that was it."

"Well, duh," Clay breathed, but my eyes were narrowed, the cards still in my hands.

"As the defense said, thank you for telling us that a noodle stand sells noodles. Very enlightening," the Judge added sarcastically, before turning to me. "Well, Mr. Wright?" he asked. I quickly looked over my notes for the stand before gasping softly, spotting exactly what I thought I would find.

"So, the sign on the noodle stand said 'NOODLE'…? It appears the defense has just obtained a vital piece of testimony!" I announced.

"Is this noodle stand's broth really that delicious? I'll have to go sample the wares one of these days. I think that's worth adding to the testimony as well," the Judge said.

 _Well… yes, it is. But that's not what I'm talking about…_ I thought, looking at the old man.

"Hmph! Whatever sort of noodles that stand sells, it can't match up to Ivy U.'s cafeteria! Some apply to the school merely for a taste of our Smart Noodles!" Stickler snapped.

"Uh, not really," I muttered.

"I preferred the Astronauts Ramen," Clay commented.

"Ew, that was gross," I replied, remembering the one time Clay force fed me that crap. I shook my head.

"Are you absolutely sure the sign read 'NOODLE'?" I asked, attempting to steer the conversation back to the main point of the trial.

"Why, just last week, my professor offered me this praise: 'At least you have good eyesight, Stickler. I'll give you that.'" Clay let out a loud cough that I just _knew_ was covering his laughter. "It read, without a doubt, 'NOODLE.'"

"I see…" I said with a smirk, shuffling my cards again.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that? Is that… pity I see in your eyes!?" the man demanded.

"Let's take a look at the map, shall we?" I offered, putting my cards away as the map came on screen. "So, you're claiming that when you saw the sign, you were standing… here, was it?" I asked, using a laser pointer to mark his spot. "Although, it would've been a bit hard to read the sign from this spot," I said.

"Y-you think so?" Stickler asked worriedly.

"Mr. Stickler, I'd like you to please take another look at the stand… and to carefully read what the sign says," I said, watching as the cart appeared on screen. Stickler looked carefully at it, before reeling back in shock. "See?" I asked. "That sign actually states the name of the stand's owner… 'ELDOONS.'"

"E… El… Eld…. Inconceivable!" Stickler gasped. "I'm certain it was definitely 'NOODLE' for sure! Positive!"

"I'm afraid your professor was wrong about that eyesight," the judge said bitingly. I smirked again.

"I wouldn't be so quick to jump to that conclusion," I said. _The sign he saw changes everything!_ "The witness says the sign said 'NOODLE'… and he saw it right. What would you say if I told you… that there is one spot from which the sign would be read the way Mr. Stickler claims?" I said.

"What…?" Stickler asked, worriedly. _As he should be._

"Mr. Wright! Show us this spot!" the Judge demanded. I looked up as the map appeared back on screen, using the laser pointer to show his spot, just north of the stand.

"The witness was standing… here! On the opposite side of the bank!" I announced.

"H-how do you know that?" the Judge asked. "When viewed from the south… the sign on the stand reads 'ELDOONS,' as we know… however! Observe the other side of the stand!" I said. The stand appeared once more on the screen and spun so everyone could see the other side. There, clear as day, the sign read 'NOODLE.'

"Oh! This side says 'NOODLE'!" the Judge gasped.

"Exactly! The name of the stand is split between the front and back signs!" I said before turning to the witness. "Mr. Stickler, you lied to the court! You witness the crime from the northern side of the park, not the south!" I said.

"Yeeeeow! Y-You got me!" Stickler cried.

" _Objection!_ " Gavin yelled, before looking at me with a small smirk. "So what?"

"S-so what!?" I repeated, confused.

"What does it matter if he saw the killing form the north or the south side? It makes no difference at all!" Gavin explained.

"H-he's right! Travel far enough to the south, and you will end up going north! Viewed on a global scale, directions are utterly without meaning!" Stickler snapped.

"Stickler, oddly enough… makes a good point. But this had to mean something… right Apollo?" Clay asked, looking up at me. I nodded thoughtfully, doing what Dad always did in this situation.

I turned my thinking around. I didn't need to think of if this is _important to the case_ , but how it would be _impossible_ for him to be where he actually was!

The answer hit my like a bullet.

"This changes everything!" I announced.

"It does?" the Judge asked in confusion.

"Yes. Remember the witness's testimony from before… The killer and victim are facing each other here," I said, motioning to the spot with my laser pointer as the map appeared back on screen. Then, at the moment the killer raises his weapon… Mr. Stickler _shouts!_ At which point, the victim turns his head to look… and the killer fires his pistol. That's why the bullet hit him in the right temple. No contradiction, right?" I explained.

"Right. Where is this going, Mr. Wright?" the Judge asked. Clay gasped as he realized the answer, and even Gavin looked mildly shocked. I smirked, crossing my arms.

"If Mr. Stickler shouts from where he's standing now… and the victim looks in his direction… the bullet would have to hit his _left_ temple!" I explained.

"Ah…" the Judge nodded, before realizing the gravity of my words. "Aaaaaah!"

I slammed my fists down on the bench in front of me, leaning forward with a smirk. "In other words, someone stand at point 'K'… couldn't shoot the victim in his right temple. It's _impossible!_ "

"That's right!" the Judge gasped.

"So, not that we know that Mr. Stickler was standing on the northern side… the wound location takes on an entirely different meaning!" Clay added helpfully.

"Indeed… you are absolutely correct, Herr Assistant," Gavin finally spoke up. I was half surprised (and relieved) that it wasn't an objection.

"Wh… what meaning!?" the Judge asked, sounding scared. Clay glanced at me, and I smiled, motioning for him to continue.

"The entry wound was on the right side of the victim's head," he reminded the court. "And the right side of the victim's head… faces north."

"North…" the Judge mused, before starting slightly. "Ah! But that's where the witness, Wesley Stickler was standing!"

"Right. So, if he was standing north… then the only person here who could have shot the doc in the right side of his head… was Stickler himself!" Clay announced, pointing at the man. I crossed my arms, shaking my head slightly.

 _I bed he's just been itching to do that ever since he first saw me do the accusing pointer finger…_

"WHAT!?" Stickler cried as the gallery erupted.

"Order! Order! Order!" the judge cried, slamming his gavel down. I grinned, crossing my arms.

 _We got this case in the bag!_

" _Objection!"_ Gavin suddenly yelled.

 _Or… not…_

"Clarify one point for me if you would, Herr Forehead," Gavin requested.

"What now?" I demanded.

"Are you truly accusing this college student… of murder?" Gavin asked. I looked at him for a moment before studying Stickler.

 _Hrm… I can't say he exactly looks innocent. But… something still doesn't feel right. I just can't picture him as the real killer…_

"No, please! Looks aside, I'm really a nice guy! All my friends say so!" Stickler pleaded.

"What friends?" Clay asked quietly.

"Down boy," I said, earning a dirty look from Clay. I was studying the man at the witness stand, that nagging familiarity bothering me once more.

The answer hit me so suddenly, and anger grew in my chest.

"No, I'm not accusing him of murder. I am, however, accusing him of something else," I said. Stickler stared at me, staying silent, while everyone else gave me questioning looks. "Mr. Stickler! You seem unusually quiet! Tell us why, now!" I barked at the man. He winced slightly.

"Th-the word 'confession' isn't in my dictionary!" Stickler said, looking away.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Herr Forehead. I'm afraid it falls to you to elucidate Herr Stickler's silence…" Gavin said before leaning forward with a smirk. "As well as to what has you fired up so suddenly."

"Mr. Wright, you did say you were accusing the witness just now… for a crime other than murder. Your reason? The court's all ears," the Judge invited.

"Gladly, your honor," I said, pulling out a piece of evidence I had borrowed from Trucy earlier this morning.

" _Take that!_ " I shouted.

"What!? Is that… women's underwear!?" the Judge demanded.

"Aren't those Trucy's?" Clay asked, before suddenly gasping, his eyes widening as he realized what I was getting at.

"Yes," I growled. All eyes turned on Stickler.

"D-don't look at me like that!" he gasped, and the court erupted.

"Order! Order! Order!" the judge yelled, slamming his gavel until silence ruled once more in the room. "Mr. Stickler, while I can't say this comes as a shock…" the judge started.

"I-it's not what it seems! By Pythagorilla's Theorem, I swear it!" he cried.

"On the night of the murder, just past nine, my _little sister_ catches a panty-snatcher red handed!" I growled. "I gave chase, but the snatcher flees… and hides himself in no other place than the Meraktic Clinic garage to avoid getting the snot beat out of him."

"Ah ha!" the judge gasped. I took a deep breath, looking to the side.

"Incidentally… these panties were found in the exhaust pipe of the care there. Presumably, he was trying to hid the evidence of his crime." I looked at the man sharply, and he coward behind the stand. "Ergo! While you may not be a murderer… you are guilty of panty-snatching in the first degree!" I snapped, pointing at the man.

"Please, hear me out! It's not what it looks like!" Stickler pleaded.

"You sick little perv!" Clay snapped. "How dare you disrespect little Trucy like that!?"

"Order! Order! Order!" the Judge yelled, slamming his gavel. I gripped Clay's arm, but the bailiff still got himself ready. Probably afraid I'd launch myself over my bench to beat the snot out of the witness. "Mr. Stickler. You should be ashamed!"

"It's… not… what… it… seeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeems…" he whined.

"So, are we to understand that you were silent not because you were guilty of murder… but because you lacked the courage to admit your theft of a girl's undergarments?" the Judge demanded, before looking in mine and Clay's direction and muttering something. I could almost swear it was "not that I blame you at this point…"

Stickler cleared his throat. "Perhaps you are not aware that my school's name was originally written 'IV'! 'I' stands for 'intelligent,' 'v' stands fore 'valiant!' See!?"

"Your point…?" the Judge asked.

"I'm not done!" Stickler whined again. "Now, I'm a major in the Science Department… and what does science teach it not curiosity!? Yes, we of the Ivy U. Science Department are valiantly curious! No challenge is too daunting, and what greater challenge to science than a mystery!?" he said.

" _Objection!"_ Clay yelled before I could. "I graduated from the same friggin' science department that you're now in, Stickler! Not only is that part about 'IV' a load of bull, but the professors do _not_ teach us to go around stealing young girls panties!"he snapped.

"No! You do not understand! A mystery is the unknown, and the unknown is unacceptable! And, my friends, when it comes to mysteries, those panties are the promised land!" he began. At that, I nearly launched myself across the bench. Clay held me back, but it didn't escape Stickler's notice, and he coward even more behind the stand.

"That's my little sister you're talking about!" I snapped.

"Not like that!" Stickler replied desperately. "You yourself are a magician, Mr. Wright! You know what I speak of! From the moment I first laid eyes on them, I was compelled to investigate… for science! A full-sized car tire was only the first mystery those panties revealed!" he said. I froze, suddenly understanding.

It only made me want to punch his lights out even more.

"A tire…" I said monotonously.

"Yes!" Stickler said brightly. "I saw her do it! She pulled a tire out of those panties! But that's not all! First, there was the tire, then a stewpot, and a frozen chicken! One mystery after another! It was… it was magic!" he sighed.

"You're a regular." It wasn't a question, but a statement. I suddenly remembered seeing him sitting close to the stage every time I visited. "You're talking about Trucy's Magic Panties trick."

"I just don't understand… a broom… from a pair of panties? It mocks the very laws of physics…" Stickler continued.

"M-Mr. Stickler! You stole a girl's panties to understand a magic trick!?" the judge demanded.

"You say 'panties' but they are so much more than that! For me, they are an object for serious study!" Stickler replied.

I decided right then and there that I would start picking Trucy up at night, least _she_ become an object for serious study for this creep.

"…I wonder… there has been a recent rash of panty-snatchings in the area… were they all you?" Gavin asked, and I could hear the barely contained amusement in his voice.

"I… I am sorry," Stickler sighed, looking away. "But I did it for science! Each time I spied a pair of panties flapping in the breeze, I thought maybe! Maybe this would be the pair that would elucidate the mystery… Even that night as he chased me through the streets, I wept tears of joy! Perhaps this is the night that I will seize the truth that lies within those panties! Yet woe I was! For once again the lacy heart-patterned truth slipped through my fingers a—"

"Still," the judge cut him off, eyeing both Clay and I. Stickler didn't realize just how dirty his words sounded, and how much that made both of us, Trucy's older brother and might-as-well-be-her-older brother, want to kill him. "That leaves one thing unexplained," the Judge said.

"Ah, you refer to our witness's other lie, yes? The witness claimed he saw the crime from the south, but was in fact, in the north," Gavin supplied.

"Indeed. Would anyone care to explain why he lied about that?" the judge asked. I glanced over the diagram, and more disgust filled me.

"The evidence that shows why he lied… is this," I said, pulling the other pair of panties out of my evidence bag.

"What!?" the Judge gasped. "More panties!?"

"Just how many panties are you carrying in you pocket, Herr Forehead?" Gavin asked with a grin, leaning over his bench. I turned a dangerous look on him.

"This is the last pair, I swear," I answered. _Don't you DARE put me in the same category as that sicko!_ Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to calm down. "These were found in a trash can at the park. Looking at the diagram," I said, motioning to where it was on screen, "we can see that the trash can was right next to where the witness stood."

"Mr. Stickler… you didn't…" the Judge asked with dread.

"Alas!" Stickler cried. "I am a failure as a scientist! I can't unravel the mysteries of the universe! I can't even unravel a pair of panties!"

"At this rate, he never will…" Clay muttered, and I smiled, that one comment making both of us feel better at this point.

"So… these panties are your handiwork as well…" the Judge asked.

"Th… that night, I had been chased, hounded into Meraktis Clinic garage… weeping in frustration, I was forced to abandon my prize! Don't you see how I felt!?" the man demanded.

"…Believe me, I'd rather not," I replied.

"I hit in the garage for a short while… then, abandoning the panties, I made for home. To avoid the office where the siblings work, I went towards the south entrance… when I saw them hanging there on a clothesline by a giant mansion… a giant pair of panties!" Stickler explained. I glanced at the panties sitting on my bench, and blanched.

 _Apparently he didn't know those bloomers belonged to the mob…_

"I had them, safe in my pocket, readt to take home… when I stumbled upon a murder," Stickler sighed.

"The murder of Dr. Meraktis," I said.

"I reported what I had seen, but as I waited for the police to arrive… I got scared. What if they searched me!?" he explained.

"That's when you disposed of the bloomers?" I asked.

"Yes… it was a severe blow to the progress of science… but one that had to be born," Stickler sighed.

"A fascinating, if disturbing tale," the Judge stated, and I had to agree. "I believe this brings today's proceedings to a close. And I'm more than pleased to dismiss this witness for the remainder of the trial."

 _Thank you!_

"One last thing, if I might," Gavin interjected.

 _Now what!?_

"Yes, Prosecutor Gavin?" the Judge asked.

"Regardless of where we ended today, some vital points were made. Namely, that the defendant, Wocky Kitaki, was at the scene of the crime. And… he was pointing a weapon at the victim," Gavin reminded us, shaking his head. I almost felt a target painted on my back again, and I knew Mr. Kitaki was glaring at me again. "One more thing. Wocky Kitaki has a clear motive."

"Indeed," the Judge said. "The defendant Wocky Kitaki is still the prime suspect in this case. The only suspect, in fact. Assuming there was no one else on the scene at the time. Yet, a mystery remains… the location of the wound in the victim's right temple has yet to be explained. The court requires further investigation from both defense and prosecution," the Judge demanded.

"…Ja, baby," Gavin answered.

"…No problem!" I said.

"Very well. This brings the trial for the day to a close. Court is adjourned!" the Judge declared, slamming his gavel down. I cleaned up all of my evidence and files before leading Clay out of the courtroom. He caught my shoulder.

"Hey, I have to run. I promised Mr. Starbuck I would meet him at the space station after today's trial," he explained. I smiled, clasping his shoulder.

"Alright. See you then," I said. He flashed a grin and ran off, leaving me to go back to the Wright Anything Agency alone. Thankfully I managed to avoid the Kitakis for the day.

…

 **A/N:** Aaaaaaand… done. Whew! Well, I'll work on the next one later!


	19. 16: All But Dead

**A/N:** Hey all! I'm back with a new chapter! I'm glad everyone enjoyed the last chapter and Clay's part in the case! Clay's going to be in the back seat now, so Trucy will return to the front and center.

Well, here we go with this chapter!

…

Chapter 16: All But Dead

I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I entered the office of the Wright Anything Agency. I had been jumpy the entire bike ride home, worried about suddenly being jumped by a Kitaki or something.

"Welcome home, Polly!" Trucy chirped from where she was sitting on the couch. I looked up at her and smiled slightly.

"Hey Truce."

"How was the trial?" she asked. I groaned, flopping down on the couch next to her. "It was a train wreck. I was lucky to make it out of there alive…" I groaned.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," she chided. "I bet Clay had a blast!" I looked up at her with a deadpanned expression on my face.

"Everyone is too obsessed with panties to bother with the real case. Speaking of which," I pulled out her magic panties, which she took with a smile. "I found the thief. He's our star witness, and an old classmate of mine and Clay's."

"Really!?" Trucy gasped. "Did you make him pay for what he did?"

"I would have if we weren't in court," I reminded her. "Though considering Big Wins Kitaki knows Stickler stole his wife's panties…" I shuddered at the thought of what the gang would do to the stupid college student.

"Oh. True."

"You'll probably have a lot more people in the audience tonight though, for your show," I said, gently pushing her hat down over her eyes. "Stickler basically advertised your Magic Panties trick."

"Hey!" she pouted, fixing her hat, before realizing what I said. A huge grin spread across her face, and she bounced on the balls of her feet, her hands behind her back. "That's great! I can't wait!"

"Hello…?" a soft voice suddenly called from the entrance to the office. We both turned to find Alita Tiala.

"Ah! Ms. Tiala!" Trucy said by way of greeting.

"Thank you for today," Alita said. "The trial… went well."

"Right… no problem," I said, unsure of if she was serious or sarcastic.

"Do you think Wocky will be okay?" the woman asked worriedly.

 _Well, he's not guilty… yet,_ I thought, unsure of how to answer. My thoughts must have shown on my face though.

"Please, you have to help him! We're supposed to get married next month…" Alita pleaded.

"Oh, congratulations!" I said, unsure of how else to respond.

"Please, let me know if there's anything I can do to help!" the woman offered. I nodded, glancing around the office. I knew I needed to investigate more, but I figured maybe there might be something in the office to help. My eyes landed on the bookshelf.

 _Some magic books are mixed with the law books here. I've read all of them multiple times… but I don't think anything there will help with this case. Such… an odd case,_ I thought, wondering around the office. I smiled slightly at the potted plant as I past it.

"Hey Charley," I said softly. _Dad's had this for years…_

I stopped and looked at all of the magic props, knowing nothing there would help. However, there were a lot of other things mixed in with the props. My eyes were drawn to the old, sepia-tone photograph of Zak Gramarye that hung above the Magic Split box, and I turned away with disgust.

 _I don't think anything here will help. I should talk to Alita some more,_ I thought, walking over to the woman again.

"Are you sure about marrying into the Kitaki family?" I asked her.

"I'm fine with it. And I love Wocky with all my heart," Alita replied. I rubbed my wrist, just under the bracelet.

"Aw, that's so sweet!" Trucy cooed.

"So it doesn't bother you that you'll be, erm… married to the mob?" I asked.

"I don't think so… my parents are against it, of course," Alita replied.

 _I feel like that's something you should know, not think…_

"Say! Where did you and Wocky first meet, anyway?" Trucy asked.

 _Good question… Ms. Tiala doesn't look like the type to have gangster connections…_

"Oh… we met at my old job, actually," Trucy said.

 _Doesn't Wocky have to be working there to for it to be considered that?_ I thought, though Alita didn't answer. _Hmm… She's not very forthcoming with information about herself, is she?_

"So, did you know that the boss is trying to get out of the 'business'?" Alita suddenly said.

"R-really?" I gasped. _Mr. Kitaki wants to quit being a gangster!?_

"He's trying to transfer his assets into a normal company. He only announced it recently, out of the blue… I hear there's quite a lot of confusion in the ranks…" she mused.

 _That… probably explains the apron…_ "I can't imagine Wocky going along with that…" I said. Alita giggled.

"He's highly motivated, isn't he?" she sighed.

"Um, that's not the word I would have used…" I muttered.

"He said, 'I'll be the next Big Boss, and keep the Family alive.' I think he's at that age when boys want to make a mark on the world," Alita sighed happily.

 _That's not the way I would have put it…_

"His father moves in a lot of circles… He's really focused on profits. The Kitaki Family's been making a killing recently!" the woman continued. I slumped forward slightly, my spikes drooping into my eyes.

 _Again, not the way I would have put it…_

"But Wocky says it's not about the money. They have the gangster tradition to uphold," Alita concluded.

"Ooh, a generation gap!" Trucy gasped. "They've even got the ever classic 'what about the family business' thing going!"

"Usually, it's the father worried about tradition," I reminded her, before looking at Alita. "Speaking of Wocky, though, can I ask you a question about him? I understand he was operated on by the victim, Dr. Meraktis," I started.

"Apparently, yes," Alita sighed. "It sounded horrible. Wocky has always been fond of fighting, I'm afraid…" she sighed.

"I'm not sure it qualifies as 'fighting' when pistols are involved," I said softly, remembering how that gun felt in my hand when I confronted Grandfather. "Although, Prosecutor Gavin was saying his life might be in danger, wasn't he?" I added, looking up at her. Alita's head snapped up, her eyes growing wide with fear.

"N-no, that' can't be right!" she gasped, before shaking her head. "I'm sure he was just trying to scare us…"

"Hm…" I mused. _I'd like to know a little more about this 'operation.' Maybe it's time to pay the Meraktis Clinic a visit…_

"I should be getting home now," Alita sighed, before looking at me, her eyes full of hope and trust. "Wocky's in your hands, Mr. Wright."

"R-r-right!" I stammered, suddenly feeling crushed under the pressure she just heaped on me with that look and a few words. "L-l-l-leave it to me!"

"Apollo, I think you're only making her more nervous," Trucy hissed, elbowing me. I scowled at her.

"Sorry! I'm new at this, okay?" I snapped back. Alita giggled again, reclaiming our attention.

"It's alright," she said as she headed towards the door. "I believe in you."

Once she left, I looked at Trucy again, suddenly remembering something.

"Weren't you spending the day with Dad? Why were you here?" I asked. She smiled.

"Daddy sent me here once he thought the trial day was over. He thought you might need your assistant!" she said with a wink.

"Ah. Alright then. Come on, it's time to investigate," I said, leading her out. "Thanks for sending Clay, by the way. He really saved my butt once or twice," I admitted. Trucy grinned, bumping the brim of her hat with her fist.

"No problemo, bro!" she said brightly, following me.

…

My first stop was the scene of Dad's accident. We had to pass it to get anywhere else anyway, since we couldn't cut through the park.

"And that's basically what happened," I finished, finally done explaining the trial to Trucy.

"Whoa…"

"Whoa is right," I replied, before noticing the trash can. I walked over to it. "This is where we found the car mirror," I said, reminding Trucy, who nodded enthusiastically. "Come to think of it, wasn't there something else in here? Something near the bottom…" I looked, in, carefully digging through the trash, until I found my prize. "Look at these," I said, pulling out the slippers that had paint on them. "There's paint. That means… these must have ended up in here after Dad's accident. Maybe they're connected?" I suggested, looking at Trucy, who nodded. I smiled, standing up straight. "Let's pick them up."

"Hey, the bottom is covered with paint!" Trucy suddenly pointed out. I flipped them over to see that she was right! Yellow paint overed the bottom, though there was one perfect shape…

"What's this weird shape here?" I asked. Trucy studied it closer.

"It looks like a leaf was stuck to the bottom when the wearer stepped in some yellow paint," Trucy mused.

"So the outline was left when the leaf was removed," I mused, gently feeling the paint.

It was still wet.

"Ack! I got paint on my hand!" I complained, before noticing Trucy still studying the slippers. I reached over inconspicuously, attempted to wipe it on her cape.

She suddenly looked up.

"Apollo!" she snapped, making me drop the slippers again. "I saw you try to wipe her hand on my cape!" She reached over, hitting my shoulder.

"Ow, stop! You made me drop valuable evidence!" I complained, stooping down to pick the slippers up. That's when I noticed something on the inside of one. I looked at it closer.

"I wonder… could this be a print?" I asked, showing Trucy for a second opinion.

"Why would there be a finger…" she started, trailing off as she looked at it. "Oh, you mean a toe print! Good call, Polly!" she said brightly.

"I bet we can analyze it just like a regular print," I said with a grin, pulling out the fingerprint powder Ema had lent us yesterday. Following her instructions, I carefully lifted a print from the slipper.

"Hey, it worked!" I said excitedly. "That looks like… a big toe, maybe?" I asked.

"Wow, I feel like the case is solved already!" Trucy said brightly.

"What's next?" I asked. "We have to match the print, right?" I pulled out the file Ema had given me.

"Right!" Trucy said, looking over my shoulder. "Let's match it!"

We looked through the file for a few moments, until Trucy seemed to realize something. "Wait… the detective girl didn't give us a list of toe prints, Polly," she said.

"Oh… good point," I muttered, feeling foolish.

"Maybe we should ask her?" Trucy suggested. "Get some 'expert' advice?"

I laughed, looking at the park. "Sure. She's probably at the scene of the crime again," I said, leading the way in.

"Look, Polly! The tarps are still here!" Trucy said. I smiled.

"Yeah, they were apparently put here to preserve the crime scene," I said, looking around. I noticed the knife next.

 _Remembering what Stickler said today in the trial… Wocky was very likely pointing that at the victim like he wanted to kill him…. Which is the problem…_ I thought with a soft sigh.

"So I guess we now know it was Mr. Stickler who hid Little Plum's bloomers here, huh?" Trucy asked.

"That's right, Trucy. And what a web of lies grew from that one little act," I said, shaking my head at the thought.

"I can picture it now!" Trucy said brightly. "You brandishing those bloomers on high, and shouting… _'Objection!'_ " she said brightly. I blushed, wondering if that's what it was really like. I wrapped at arm around her.

"Here's what I want you to do, Trucy," I said. She looked up at me brightly, waiting. "Take that thought… gently lock it way deep in your heart," I started, pointing at her chest, "and never speak of it."

Trucy just laughed, ducking out from under my arm. I sighed, shaking my head and looking around. "It doesn't look like Ema's here though," I sighed. Trucy nodded.

"Okay! We'll just come back then!" she said, taking my arm and dragging me out. We made our way towards the detention center. Hopefully, this time, I'd be able to actually _talk to my client!_

…

"Hmm… Looks like Wocky's out for questioning…" Trucy mused. I groaned.

"I really need to talk to him." I sighed. "I guess we'll come back later…"

"Excuse me," the guard said as I stood. I looked back at him.

"Yes?"

"The other suspect is all through with questioning, sir," he said.

"The other… Ah! You mean the panty-snatcher!?" Trucy gasped. I scowled.

"Wesley Stickler…" _So they arrested him, too?_ "Alright. Let's have a little chat with Mr. Stickler…" I said, sitting again. _I hope I don't regret this…_

"He is a valuable witness!" Trucy said, seeming to read my thoughts.

 _He is a bit 'precious,' I'll give him that,_ I thought scathingly as a guard lead the college student in. He sat, not looking at us.

"Please, keep this brief, if you would. I'm quite busy. I need to finish this paper…" he looked up. "Nyurk! I-it's you!" he cried.

"Mr. Stickler," I said cooly. "We'd like to have a few words with you."

"V-very well," he muttered, playing with the corner of his book. "As long as they're few…"

 _Nothing would make me happier, believe me…_ I thought. "Mr. Stickler. On the night of the murder, you stole—"

"Wait!" Stickler gasped, cutting me off. "I can't help but feel that I'm being misunderstood."

"…How, exactly?" I demanded.

"Yes, that night, I obtained a pair of panties, it's true. However! It was my burning curiosity that drove me to do it! Nothing more!" Stickler explained. I sighed, rolling my eyes.

"You wanted to know the trick to my panties, right?" Trucy asked.

"Y-you're here, too!?" Stickler gasped, almost sounding like he was in heaven. I scowled at him, while Trucy gave him a quizzical look.

"Oh, Great Trucy! Teach me!" the desperate man pleaded.

"Eh!?" Trucy gasped, suddenly latching on to my arm.

"I must know the secret of your panties! My very existence hangs in the balance! Please, make me your apprentice!"

Trucy's hands tightened. I could tell she was scared of him.

I suddenly stood, towering over the sitting man. He lurched back in his seat, forgetting about the glass between us.

"You come near my sister, and I will _end you_ ," I growled.

"I-I-I…"

I narrowed my eyes dangerously.

"Alright, alright!" he cried. I nodded, sitting once more and taking a deep breath. Trucy latched onto my arm again.

"Now, back to the reason we're here. Could you relate what you saw the night of the murder to us one more time?" I asked.

"…Why not," he sighed. "Though it hardly differs from the testimony I gave in court. The defendant was there in the park that night, of this I'm quite certain. He was pointing a pistol… or something like that at the victim! That's when I shouted 'stop, you two! Let's resolve this like gentlemen!' …and the next moment, a shot was fired," he explained.

"And this is all true?" I demanded. "Really?"

"My panties are gone," the man sighed. "My innermost heart revealed. What further reason could I possibly have to lie?"

I waited for a moment, but my bracelet didn't react. _I can't think of anything he'd want to hide more than panty-snatching…_

"It sounds like Wock was at the scene of the crime, after all…" Trucy sighed.

"How I wish it weren't so…" I added, before looking at the guard. "We're done with Mr. Stickler. I was hoping to meet with my client?"

"Wocky Kitaki's just finished questioning. I'll bring him out," the guard said, leading Stickler out.

"Great! Finally!" Trucy said brightly, just as the guard led Wocky in.

"Yo, 'sup, my little imposter!" he said, looking at Trucy.

"Eeek!" she squeaked. "Wh-what did you call me?"

"Dizzam! You're not Alita? Yo, who are you?" he demanded.

"My sister," I said.

"'My little imposter' sure is a strange nickname…" Trucy said thoughtfully.

"It's a clink thang. You wouldn't understand," he said, shaking his head. "D-did I say 'imposter?' I meant 'poster'… like 'poster girl,' 'aight?"

"If you're going to drop that part, why not drop 'poster' and just call her 'girl?'" Trucy asked.

"ause she's so much more than that, G. She's like… she's like an angel. A fallen angel," he sighed. I nearly gagged at how sweet that was, even if it really surprised me. "So. What can I do you for?"

"…You don't look so chipper today, Wocky," Trucy said softly.

"Worried about you, um, heart condition, maybe?" I asked, unsure of how to put it.

"M-man… I ain't trying to hear that!" he snapped, perhaps thinking back to Gavin's words. "A man fights to protect what's valuable to him, you know what I'm saying?" He sighed, looking away. "I miss my fallen angel!" He looked back at me again. "Hey, you go get Alita for me. You're my lawyer, aren't you?" he demanded.

 _Lawyer, not gopher_ , I thought, before deciding to finally, fully, talk to him.

"So, I hear you're to be married next month?" I asked.

"Straight up!" Wocky said brightly. "We poured the nuptial 40 out on the stoop! Alita! Oh, snapplecakes! She soooo foine!" he… swooned?

 _I think he's smitten with her in his own weird way…_ I thought, trying not to laugh.

"I was wondering, how did you two meet? I asked Alita, but she was… very vague," Trucy asked.

"Huh? Well, man, if she wouldn't tell you… I'd best hold my tongue, you feel me?" the gangster said.

"Wha-?" Trucy asked.

"Man, what's past is past. She knows that. When I'm with Alita… I feel like there's things worth protecting out there. You feel me? And my Alita, she's down with that all the way," he explained. I pressed my finger against my forehead thoughtfully.

 _Hmm, so both of them are mum about their past…_

Trucy decided then would be a good time to switch tracks. "Do you think you could tell us what happened with you and Pal Meraktis?" she asked.

"…There's something you should know," Wocky started seriously. "We Kitakis are having what you might call a feud with the Rivales Family. So, 'bout six months back… I go into Rivales turf, packing a knife, right?"

"And… you were shot?" Trucy asked.

"Coldest think I've ever seen. One shot, to the heart, but my homies weren't too late. It's a miracle that I lived. It's already considered one of the seven wonders of the Kitaki Family, you know that?" he said with a smirk.

"So, you were taken to the Meraktis Clinic then?" I asked.

"You shoulda seen their faces when they wheeled me in. You can't just let the Boss's son die, you know?" Wocky said with a chuckle.

 _I'd hate to have been in that doctor's shoes… Mr. Kitakis' scary enough when he's not angry…_ I thought with a shudder.

"But the bullet that hit you… it was never removed?" Trucy asked.

 _And it's still threatening his life…_ I thought solemnly.

"That doctor…" Wocky scowled deeply, his body tensing in anger. "He did it on purpose! The Rivales paid him off, I'm sure of it!" he snapped.

 _I need to hear more about the night of the murder, that much is clear…_ I thought, digging though my evidence. I finally pulled out two pieces.

"About these weapons… the pistol and the knife," I began.

"They belong to the Family. I snuck 'em out that night," Wocky said off-handedly. My bracelet tightened ever so slightly, but I didn't see anything, so I decided to ignore it.

"So, the 'killer' Mr. Stickler says he saw that night was…"

"I guess it was me. I was there, after all," Wocky said with a shrug.

"Gak!" I gasped. _We're finished…_

"Um… Yo, Wocky! Do you think you could tell us exactly what happened that night?" Trucy asked.

"Heh… you don't beat around the bush, do you?" Wocky said with a grin. "I like your style, shorty."

"So… did you do it?" I asked.

"…I dunno," Wocky answered, sounding truthful.

"Eh?" I asked.

"The day of that check-up, when I found out about the bullet by my heart… I… borrowed a gun from the Family's stash. Figured I'd give that doctor a taste of his own bad medicine…" Wocky started, looking down.

 _Uh-oh… I don't like where this is going…_

"But… you were carrying a knife, weren't you?" Trucy asked hopefully.

"Oh, that? Yeah, well, never can be too careful, I say," he said. "So I'm on my way to the clinic, right? When I run into him in the park… and he's dragging this noodle stand behind him!"

"Wait, you didn't put him up to that? Trucy asked. "Like, you know, in the movies? 'If you value your life, you'll brinf the stand…'"

Wocky stared at her for a moment. "Shorty, you're more wacked than I am. And that's saying something," he said. I couldn't help but snicker at that.

"…But I was serious!" Trucy replied. I shook my head.

"Excuse her, she watches too many movies," I said. Wocky nodded, looking back at me.

"The thing is, I don't remember what happened next all too well," he said.

"You don't remember?" I asked, my heart sinking in the general direction of the floor.

"But, the way I see it, if there wasn't anyone else there that night… then I guess it probably was me who did him in, you know what I'm saying?" Wocky finished. I thought that over. While his thoughts made a certain amount of sense… something just didn't add up…

I just couldn't place my finger on it…

"Alright, thank you. We'll be back, okay?" I said.

"Sure, sure, whatever. Yo, make sure you bring my fallen angel, got it?" he called after us as we left. I shook my head at that as the two of us made out way and to the mansion.

…

 _Yipes! She's back!_ I thought, noticing the wife of the gang boss, sweeping boredly at the paint.

"Hey. You two. Over here!" she snapped, noticing my and Trucy.

"U-uh, us?" I asked.

"Yo, Little Plum! Wassup!?" Trucy said, strutting over to the woman. I groaned, following.

 _All this gangsterese is a negative influence on Trucy…_

"I heard you retrieved my bloomers!" Plum said, studying the two of us.

"W-well, I was j-just doing…" I stammered.

"Bah!" she snapped, and I noticed a glint of metal suddenly appearing in the handle of her broom. "A man speaks clearly, and takes credit where it's due! You caught the thief, didn't you?"

"Uh, y-yes! Sorry! I caught him!" I quickly said, eyes wide. I noticed a malicious smirk on Trucy's face.

"You're cute when you're nervous, Polly!"

"I'll deal with you later," I said with my best older brother threatening voice.

"But enough about bloomers! What about my son, Wocky!?" she demanded.

"W-Wocky? Er, well, he's, um…"

"Clearly!" she snapped again.

"Y-yes, ma'am!" I cried. _This is why I was kind of hoping we could avoid coming back here…_

"He's really everything you'd expect in a Boss's son!" Trucy said brightly. "'I'm going to be a gangster, dude!'"

"The life does have an appear for that age… particularly for boys," Plum sighed. Trucy looked up at me suspiciously, and it took me a moment to realize that a) I was a boy, and b) I was only a few years older than Wocky.

"What!?" I demanded. "Don't look at me like that!"

"Wocky was shot in a turf war about half a year ago," Plum sighed softly, returning the conversation to the main point.

"Yes… we heard the story from Wocky," I admitted.

"…But he didn't tell you the whole story. You know, even if he had a pistol then, he couldn't have shot anyone," Plum said.

"What…?" Trucy gasped, giving voice to my surprise.

"He acts like he's 'hard,' but he couldn't shoot someone to save his life. I should know… I'm his mom," she said, her voice still soft. I nodded thoughtfully.

 _Her words do have a certain weight to them…_

"Hopefully, when this is all taken care of… he and the Boss can sort out their differences," Plum said.

"The Boss… you mean Wocky's father?" Trucy asked.

"They didn't seem to be on the best terms, did they…?" I mused.

"The Boss may act tough, but that boy means the world to him," Plum sighed.

"But Wocky seems, well… it seems he's against his father's position," I said, remembering how Alita mentioned the Boss wanting to get out of the business, and Wocky's opinion of that.

"Ah. It's to be expected," the woman said, shaking her head. "We're in a bit of a transition now. Trying to cut our ties to the shadier side of the street and do more on the up-and-up. Wocky isn't too enthusiastic about the change, it's true," she explained.

"But why the change?" Trucy asked suddenly. "Is the gangster thing just not paying the bills?"

 _Oh, I'm sure it is…_ I thought, while Plum laughed.

"It pays," she said, before growing a little more serious, shaking her head. "But we need a lot of money right now. Clean money, that is."

"I see," I said, crossing my arms thoughtfully. _Hmm… something must be up…_

"He'll see things the way the Boss sees 'em… someday," Plum added with a sigh. I smiled slightly, before deciding to return to the case at hand.

"So, about the gun…" I started.

"It's true. One of our pistols is missing," Plum confirmed.

"So the murder weapon was from this mansion," Trucy said.

"We kind of figured, given the difficulty of obtaining a gun these days," I said.

"None of the rank and file have access. Only the Boss, myself, and…" she trailed off, before gasping softly. "Wocky could have taken it."

"I see," I said.

"I'm sure the cops will continue tromping all over the mansion because of this case," Plum said, shaking her head. "Maybe this is a sign that it's time for a change!" she laughed.

 _She doesn't seem too concerned, at least…_ I thought.

"So, about Alita…" Trucy started.

"Yeah. Wocky's fiancée," Plum said.

"They're getting married next month, correct?" I asked.

"I suppose. She's been staying over lately," Plum replied with a shrug, looking away.

"You don't look too happy about that, Little Plum," Trucy commented. Plum's head whipped around to look at us.

"How'd you guess?" she demanded.

 _Even I could tell that!_ I thought. "Could you tell us more about her?" I asked.

"…Wocky brought her home one day. Says he wants to tie the knot," she explained.

"I can see why!" Trucy said brightly. "She's so pretty!"

"Oh, she's pretty enough. But, you know…" Plum started ominously. We looked at her curiously. "Nah, it's probably just me being suspicious. Stay in this business too long… and you start to only see darkness in people. You get a nose for it. A nose for people… a nose for trouble."

 _Hmm… I wonder what the problem is?_ I thought.

"It's like a gangsters-only version of 'female intuition!'" Trucy said brightly. I shook my head at her, talking to Plum a little more about various pieces of evidence (why in the world would I want to keep her bloomers as a _souvenir!?_ ), before deciding to head to the clinic.

Mr. Eldoon stood in front of his house, a sour look on his face. Trucy spotted him before he spotted us.

"Hey, it's Mr. Eldoon!" she said brightly, before waving one arm wildly about. "Oh Mr. Eldoooooon!" she called. The man looked up before trudging over to us, crossing his arms with a glare.

"…Hmph."

"What's wrong?" Trucy asked, suddenly put off.

"…So, you found my stand. That's why I'm here. To thank you," he said, not sounding too thankful.

"Ah," both Trucy and I said at the same time.

"But now it's a crime scene and they won't let me have it back!" the man suddenly exploded. "That's also why I'm here. I got no other place to go…"

"Ah… I see…" I said softly, frankly feeling sorry for the man.

"How can a noodle stand be a crime scene, that's what I don't get, Trucy-doll!" he sighed. "Even in death he's after my neck, I tell ya! Bah! Can't even cook an honest noodle…"

"'He'…?" I asked, confused.

"'Even in death'… you mean the victim, Dr. Meraktis?" Trucy asked.

"I tell ya. It's enough to drive a man to make his soup even saltier…" Mr. Eldoon grumbled.

 _Remind me to never eat his noodles when he's in a bad mood…_ I thought. _After all, even a little more salt would ruin the perfect balance he's got going…_

Once it seemed Mr. Eldoon was done his rant, Trucy and I looked over at the clinic.

"Well, we've got to check out this clinic, that's for sure," Trucy started.

"Yeah, but what about the guard?" I reminded her. She grinned up at me.

"No harm in asking!" she said brightly, before skipping over to the man. "Um, excuse me!" she said brightly. The officer turned and spotted us.

"Hey, it's you two from yesterday!" he said.

 _That's the same officer that was standing out by the park yesterday! What does he do, nothing but guard duty?_ I thought in shock.

"Your business is over in the park, isn't it? The clinic's off limits. It's not involved," he said.

 _Not involved my foot,_ I thought.

"B-but…!" Trucy tried.

"What part of 'off limits' do you not understand? The officer demanded. "Show me proof that the clinic is connected to the incident in the park, or beat it," he snapped.

 _No harm in asking… no gain either. No point to sticking around here, I guess…_ I thought, wrapping an arm around Trucy and leading her back to Mr. Eldoon. He was still sulking, but I thought it might be best to get some more information out of him.

"So… the stand," I began. Those seemed to be the magic words.

"That stand… for generations, it's served up the very best noodles us Eldoons could make. A tradition of noodles and salty broth." He shook his head. "It's more than a stand, it's history, I tell you."

 _Watch what you say, or it might become true…_ I thought idly.

"That's a great story, Mr. Eldoon! A single stand, passed down from generation to generation!" Trucy sighed with happiness.

"'Course, to be honest… I didn't plan on doing it," Mr. Eldoon added.

"That's right. You said something about that. About you 'rebelling' against your pops, was it?" Trucy asked.

"Good memory, Trucy-doll. Aye, I was a go-getter back in my day, like Polly-boy here… until my friend next door butted in. In the end, I was left with nothing but this dusty old stand to earn my fortune," the man explained. I hummed thoughtfully, pressing my finger against my forehead.

"Mr. Eldoon, I don't mean to pry…" I began, with every intention to pry. "But what exactly did you do before you became a chef?"

"Bah!" the old man spat, looking away in disgust. "Let old noodles lie, that's what I say," he grumbled.

 _I'm starting to get an idea of what he did, anyway,_ I thought, glancing in the direction of the clinic.

"He stole my dreams and left me with nothin' but noodles. And now I don't even have that!" Eldoon snapped.

"Mr. Eldoon, if I might ask… what exactly happened between you and the Meraktis Clinic?" I asked, pressing this point. I wanted to know if my theory was correct.

"Eh? Eh!?" Mr. Eldoon seemed surprised at my forwardness.

"I couldn't help but sense enmity there…" I added.

"Enmity?" the noodle vendor demanded. "I hate 'em! Er. Hated," he corrected himself. "Him actin' like he smells like roses when he's rollin' in mud!"

"Excuse me?" I asked in confusion.

"He's the only doctor at that clinic, you know. Pretty impressive, eh?" Eldoon rolled his eyes. "I'll tell you the secret to his success… the mob!"

"You mean… the Kitaki Family?" I asked, remembering what we learned earlier from Wocky.

"They're always having one of them 'turf wars' or whatnot. Always an injury or two that needs fixing. Meraktis saw a chance for some business." He shook his head in disgust. "So he started giving the Kitaki Family a good deal…"

"A deal…?" I asked.

"Every fifth operation for free!" Eldoon exploded, throwing his hands into the air in exasperation. "He stole the idea from my pops! One free bowl of noodles a week, he used to say."

"Can a doctor just decide to do that?" Trucy asked in confusion. "What about the insurance companies…?"

 _Are the Kitaki's insured? Or.. were they? Probably are now, considering the Boss is trying to get out of the game…_

"Oh, no doubt it's illegal," Eldoon agreed. "But, it got him in good with the Family. Pretty soon he was getting all the business in town. Leavin' me here, in the dark! Up t'my neck in soupy noodles!"

I leaned close to Trucy. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" I hissed. She grinned with a nod.

"Yep. Can't hurt to ask, bro!" she hissed back. I nodded, stood, and took a deep breath.

"Mr. Eldoon…" I started. He didn't look up from his sulking, so I decided to just dive into it. "Or should I say 'Dr. Eldoon'…" His head snapped up, before he let out a soft, humorless chuckle.

"Figured it out, Polly-boy? That's right, I was a doctor. A surgeon… until the year before last," he admitted.

"So Mr. Meraktis was your rival?" Trucy asked. Eldoon looked down with a scowl, his crossed arms tightening.

"…You like those onions they put in the soup broth?" he asked. I was totally thrown off balance, especially since I knew he didn't put onions in his soup.

"Um, yeah, kind of," I admitted.

"You take a spoon, you drink some broth... Those onions will find their way in there," Eldoon started. "For people who like 'em, why that's just fine. For people who hate 'em..." he shook his head with a scowl. "I hate onions. Hate 'em! Always sneaking in from the side, gettin' in the way of a good tastin' spoonful. Well, that's what he was. An onion! Onion-boy, that's what I called 'im," he explained.

 _That explains why he doesn't put onions in his soup…_ I mused thoughtfully. "So… you weren't exactly friends," I concluded.

"Hah! Me 'n Pal Meraktis… ever since pre-school we were getting in each other's face. No matter what I did, sure enough, he'd come followin' along. Then he'd do it better than me. Just blow right past without so much as a 'howdy,'" he said bitterly.

"…I see," I said.

"That's right! I was a surgeon long before he was, you know," the man said, before grumbling, "then that no-good onion-boy comes along…"

"Well, Trucy," I said, crossing my arms and looking over at my sister. "Looks like we found ourselves a new suspect," I joked. Trucy reached over, pinching my arm hard.

"Don't say that!" she snapped.

"Ow! It was a joke!" I argued, rubbing my arm.

"Thanks to him," Eldoon continued as though we hadn't said anything. "I was forced to trade in my scalpel for a ladle!" He suddenly looked up, as though just remembering we were still there. "Sorry, Polly-boy. Didn't mean to weigh you down with an old man's ramblings."

"No, it's fine," I said with a smile.

"By way of apology… you ever get yourself in a spot of trouble, you drop by," he said with a nod. I was confused though.

"Huh?"

"You're investigating Meraktis, aren't you?" Eldoon asked.

"Yes…?" I said uncertainty.

"Well, you want to know about a doctor, you ask a doctor. That's all I'm sayin'," he said, shaking his head. "You just think of me if you need something, Trucy-doll," he said, looking at my sister. "Your bro seems a little thick headed today."

"Hey!" I complained.

"Right!" Trucy said with a giggle. "Thanks, Mr. Eldoon!"

 _Hmph. I am not thick headed,_ I thought acidly. _Though… I guess the time spent listening to him complain wasn't entirely wasted… And… I was the one who asked…_

"Hey, maybe your detective girlfriend is back at the park. Let's go!" Trucy said, wiggling an eyebrow at me, before grabbing my wrist and dragging me away.

"Trucy!" I yelled, blushing. "She's not my girlfriend!"

"Yet!" Trucy sang, and I groaned.

…

When we reached the entrance, it was blocked by a huge crowd of people. Trucy decided to point it out.

"Probably people trying to get a glimpse of the crime scene," I said, not really listening to the babble. I was trying to figure out how to get in to the park, to where Ema hopefully was.

"But… why are those girls screaming?" Trucy asked, tugging on my sleeve and finally getting my attention. I looked first at her, then the girls in the crowd. "I think I just heard one say 'Omigod, it's him!'" she added.

"That impression… was way too good," I said, looking around. _Wait, that motorcycle_ … I thought, spotting a purple bike with and stylized G or 6 on the side.

"Ah! If it isn't Herr Forehead," that annoying voice suddenly said as the blond swept out of the crowd and over to us.

"Prosecutor Gavin," I replied coldly. The man grinned, playing with his bangs.

"Some fans found me on my way out… Just my luck," he sighed. The girls screamed again.

"Thus the screams…" I said, motioning to them.

"New album just game out, you know," the man said before grinning and grabbing my wrist.

"Hey!"

"Try waving to them," he said, lifting my hand and forcing me to wave. "They love it."

The girls went more into a frenzy, cheering for us. I think I even heard someone call me cute. Gavin laughed at that.

"They're so excited, it doesn't matter who waves to them, see?" the man said.

 _Yeah, I know about fan mentality,_ I thought, pulling my wrist away from his grasp, thinking back to my performing days.

"Um, so you were here investigating?" Trucy asked brightly, probably sensing my discomfort.

"And I was on my way home… when my hog gave up the ghost," Gavin sighed, shaking his head.

"Your hog…?" I asked in confusion.

"My motorcycle won't start. A clogged exhaust pipe…" he admitted, playing with his bangs once more.

"Too bad!" Trucy said, studying the bike. "It looks like such a nice bike, too. Hard to believe that it could break just from that!" she said.

"Ach, it's my fault," the man sighed. "I think I was using the wrong oil. Cars, motorbikes, they're all the same," he mused. "Clog the exhaust, and they won't run. Ah, machines." He looked at me. "Tell me you share my angst, Herr Forehead!" he pleaded. I crossed my arms.

"I ride a bicycle, actually," I said. The man looked a little put off.

"Ah. Heh. In any event, I'm off to the shop to get her fixed. The detective in charge of the scene isn't fond of me, in any case," he admitted with a shrug.

"The detective… you mean Detective Skye?" I asked, my voice a little less cold then before.

"Ja. She's in a foul mood, too. Be gentle," he said, before waving with a grin. "Auf Wiedersehen, baby!" he called, walking his bike away. The fan girls squealed, following after him at a distance.

I sighed. "And the forecast for the park today… Gloomy Skyes," I joked. Trucy giggled.

"Well, nothing to do but head on in!" she said brightly, pushing me forehead. "Besides, maybe seeing your face will make her feel better!"

"TRUCY!" I yelled as she giggled more, keeping her hands planted firmly on my back as she drove me forward. I grumbled angrily until we reached the scene.

"Huh? Does something about this scene look different to you?" I asked Trucy, who finally stopped pushing me. She looked around.

"The blue tarps are gone!" she suddenly gasped. "Maybe that's it?"

"Yeah, I think you're right," I said, looking around. I suddenly spotted what I was looking for. "Look over there," I pointed out. Ema was crouched next to the trashcan.

"Your future girlfriend," Trucy said.

"She's not my—!"

"She seems to be apologizing reverently… to the trash can," Trucy concluded. I looked back over to her and saw that Trucy was right.

"She's… under a lot of stress. The investigation's probably not going so well," I commented. Without warning, Ema was suddenly in front of us.

"Hey, you there!" she snapped. "If you're going to talk about someone behind their back, do it more quietly, please!"

 _Omigod, she didn't hear the girlfriend thing, did she!?_ I thought. "Oh, um, D-Detective Skye. H-hello," I stammered, though I was trying to act smooth. She just looked at me with a tiny smile.

"You seem as gloomy as ever," Trucy suddenly pipped up. Ema looked over at her, and the clouds seemed to close over her face once more.

"This is miserable! Miserable!" she exclaimed. "I just got a new kit, and I can't get the stuff to work. And everyone's all smiles for that glimmerous fop!" she ranted.

"Glimmerous…" Does she mean Prosecutor Gavin?" Trucy asked.

"Probably," I said. "And she's not too far off the mark… Though I think it's supposed to be 'glamorous'…"

"When he walks his shiny chains catch the sun and glimmer in my eyes!" Ema snapped, grabbing a handful of Snackroos from her bag. "It's distracting!" she shoved the handful in her mouth, munching on them loudly.

 _Speaking of distracting…_

Ema suddenly sighed. "I guess I just have to accept the fact that I lack talent," she said sadly.

"That's not true!" I said. Both Ema and Trucy looked at me in surprise, before Ema scowled.

"I can't even figure out my new kit," she argued.

"Well, that's the issue. It's new," I reasoned. Plus, with the glimmerous fop and his fan club here, I'm sure it was hard to concentrate. But it was you yesterday who showed us how to do the fingerprint analysis," I reminded her. She looked at me for a moment before smiling.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," she said. I grinned at her, glad to see her smile. Trucy decided to but in then.

"Where's the forensic team?"

"Hm? Oh, not here yet," Ema said. But I bought this new kit through mail order," she admitted with a grin. "And I'm going to test it here before the forensic team arrives!"

 _Uh… are you sure that's okay…?_

"So, what exactly were you doing, squatting down on the ground like that?" I asked. "Does it have to do with that new kit of yours?"

"Ooh! You want to know?" Ema asked, her eyes lighting up just like they did over the fingerprints. "Do you? Well, I splurged on this new toy!" she said.

 _That's right. Mail order…_ I thought.

"What is it?" Trucy asked, looking in the box. "I see a roller… and glue?"

"This is a footprint analysis kit!" Ema said proudly.

"Footprint?" I asked.

"It was raining on the night of the murder, which means that footprints were left," Ema explained.

"Oh, does that have anything to do with those blue tarps" Trucy asked.

"Right. The ground was muddy, so I had to protect it as it was that night," the detective said. "Ever wanted to know exactly where someone was standing? Like your panty-snatching student witness, for instance?" she asked. I rolled my eyes at the thought of Stickler.

"Ah-ha! So with that kit…!" Trucy gasped.

"Right!" Ema said brightly. She then looked at me with a gleam in her eyes. "Want to try this stuff out?"

"Huh? Are you sure?" I asked in surprise. "I mean, we're sort of on opposing teams and all…"

"Oh, pshaw!" Ema said, waving my words aside. "You're friends!" A warm feeling filled my chest. "And… to tell the truth, I'm not so good at doing this. Guess I'm a little clumsy," she admitted. "I could use your help."

"Ooh!" Trucy gasped. "We're good at stuff like this! We used to make magic bunnies out of paper mache!"

"Trucy!" I gasped as Ema giggled, looking over at me. I could feel some heat in my cheeks. I shook my head. "I'll give it a go!"

"That's the spirit!" Ema said brightly. "Right, allow me to explain! Ahem, one moment…" she muttered, diving into the kit box. She pulled out a paper and began to read.

"She's reading the instructions for her kit…" Trucy said softly.

 _Great. We get to learn together…_ I thought with a soft sigh.

"First, we have to pick the footprint, or in this case, shoe print we want to analyze!" she began, showing me a diagram of the scene. "I've taken the liberty of marking all the shoe prints in the park. Well, which shoe print should we start with...?" The three of us studied the map for a moment before she pointed to the prints marked with a K. "If we're going to verify the defendant's account, here's the place to start! Shoe prints, prepare to be examined!" She turned quickly to the prints, leaving Trucy and I to follow.

"Ooh! This is so exciting!" Trucy said brightly. Ema smiled.

"Right, here goes! First… 'pour the plaster into the print until it's full,'" she read. She nodded and pulled out a beaker full of thick, white goo. She handed it to me. "Here. You try it," she said with a smile. I nodded, studying the print for a moment, before carefully pouring the plaster in. It slowly spread out in the print until it was completely full.

"Not bad," Ema said, studying it. "You're handier with that than you look.

"Er… thanks?" I said, not sure if that was a complement or not.

"On to the next step!" she suddenly said, whipping the paper back up to read it. Um… 'dry the plaster until it turns white,'" she said, before nodding, handing a wireless hair dryer over to me. "Have at it!" she said. I nodded, switching the device on and carefully holding it over the plaster, moving it around to make sure it dries evenly. Ema nodded once it was entirely white.

"Looks like it's hardened nicely," she said before carefully pulling it out. "Let's take a look! Hmm… yes, that's a good one!" she said, showing it to both Trucy and me. "Next, the ink! Trucy, get the roller and ink pad!"

"Yes, ma'am!" she said, doing so. Ema had her put ink on the plaster print, before carefully pressing it onto a piece of paper.

"Right, now the moment you've all been waiting for!" Ema said with a smile. "Let's see if we get a match." She pulled out a file, and the three of us poured over it, comparing shoe prints, until I spotted the match. I pointed it out.

"So the shoe prints belong to Wocky Kitaki after all…" I sighed.

"He was in the park on the night of the crime!" Ema said with a nod.

"Wow! I can almost see the science at work!" Trucy gasped. Ema grinned brightly.

"Don't you love it!?" she asked, before sighing happily. "Nothing feels better…"

 _She's really into this. It's kind of cute—Wait, what!? Where'd_ that _come from!?_

"Just let me know if you want to do some more. I'll be here, solving the case… with science!" Ema said with grin. I smiled with a nod of confirmation.

 _Well, that certainly brightened her mood…_

"How about another go?" I asked. Her face lit up even more, and we worked together to analyze the next set of foot prints next to the trashcan. They confirmed that Stickler stood there.

Finally we turned our attention to the single print next to the stand. We went through the process once more, but this time was different once we pressed the print on the paper.

"…Huh. That's a funny shoe print. Is that even a shoe?" Trucy asked as the three of us studied it.

"It is strange. So smooth," Ema mused.

"Except for the part with the leaf," I pointed out, wondering why I was suddenly getting a nagging sense of déjà vu.

"I can say without even looking that this print doesn't match any print on our list," Ema said. I nodded.

 _Hmm… a mystery print…_ I thought, pressing my finger against my forehead. I felt on the verge of some kind of breakthrough. I just had to figure it out.

"This print is far too smooth to be from a regular shoe," Ema said, still studying the paper.

"It is a shoe print of some kind though, that's certain," Trucy said.

"Still, you have to wonder what it's doing here," Ema said.

"It's right next to the Eldoon's Noodles stand!" Trucy added. I continued to press my fifnger against my forehead, thinking over the evidence.

"It does make one wonder…" I suddenly felt Ema's eyes on me. "Hey, Apollo."

"Yes…?" I asked, looking up.

"Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?" she asked, before narrowing her eyes slightly. "…You wouldn't happen to have something in mind? Something that might have left this mystery shoe print?"

 _This mystery shoe print_ does _remind me of something!_ I realized, before digging into my bag. "You know, I think I have our culprit right here…" I said, pulling out the slippers. "I think it's these slippers, actually."

"Slippers… what would slippers be doing out here?" Ema asked.

"Dunno. But look at the bottom! See?" I said, flipping them over.

"It's covered with paint! Except for…" she gasped.

"See, right here?" I asked, pointing to the leaf shape.

"Hey, that spot is shaped like a leaf!"

"What if a leaf was stuck on the bottom, and came of when the slipper stepped in paint?" I asked. "…Makes sense, doesn't it?"

"Wait, something's written on them… 'The Meraktis Clinic!'" Ema gasped again, looking up at me.

"Exactly! The victim's clinic," I said.

"Wait, that means… that someone from the clinic was involved?" Trucy asked, tipping her head to the side thoughtfully. Ema didn't answer, instead, she placed a Snackoo in her mouth, munching thoughtfully.

"Um, Detective Skye? We have a favor to ask!" Trucy said.

"Wh-what?" Ema asked, snapped out of thought. I knew where Trucy was going with this.

"Can you get us access into the Meraktis Clinic?" I asked.

"The police won't let us in! They say the murder and the clinic are not connected. And it's off limits until we prove they are!" Trucy explained. Ema nodded.

"I should be able to do something for you, yes," she said.

"Eh? Really?" I gasped.

"Well, you did my work for me here with the shoe prints," she admitted. "Seems like I should return the favor.

"Thank you, Detective Skye!" Trucy cheered. Ema shook her head slightly, writing something down on a paper before handing it to me.

"Here, show this to the police officer on duty," she said. I nodded, slipping it into my pocket.

"Thanks," I said with a small smile.

 _Right! Meraktis Clinic, here we come!_

"One more thing! Ema said before we could leave.

"Wh-what?" I asked.

"The slippers… right there! I think I see a toe mark!" she gasped.

"Oh yeah!" I said, having totally forgetting the reason we first came here. "We managed to pull a print off of this," I said, showing her.

"Oh… there's one problem…" Ema said, deflating. "The police station doesn't keep a record of toe prints. So I can't tell you whose it is," she said. I nodded.

"Right. _I guess that would be too much to hope for…_

"But keep it. You never know," Ema said with a smile. "You might find something else that'll have a toe print."

I chuckled. "What are the chances?" I asked.

"You'd be surprised," Ema said with a smile as the two of us left.

…

"Ah, you two again. When, oh when will you learn," the officer guarding the clinic groaned, before taking in our faces. "Look at me however you want, you're not getting in today," he said, crossing his arms.

I smirked, reaching into my pocket.

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you!" Trucy said, whipping her hat off and pulling the paper from inside. "Look what we have!" she said, presenting it to the man.

 _Sneaky little magician!_ I thought, before quickly checking the rest of my pockets too. Thankfully, everything else was where it was supposed to be.

"What's that? …Detective Skye!" he gasped. "Yesterday, it was Prosecutor Gavin, today it's Detective Skye." He narrowed his eyes dangerously at us. "Who are you two?" he demanded.

 _Great. Now he's suspicious again…_

"Well, you got the order, I gotta let you in," he sighed, letting the matter drop. "Have fun," he said, stepping aside.

"Thanks, Mr. Officer!" Trucy said brightly, before looking up at me. "Let's hit it, Polly!"

We walked into the reception area, which was devoid of people.

"Huh, kind of an at-home sort of place, isn't it?" Trucy asked. I nodded.

"Yeah. But more importantly, this place has a connection to the murder in the park… I'm sure of it!" I declaired.

"The police guy out front wasn't so sure," Trucy reminded me. I ignored her, continuing my thought.

"Beyond it being where the victim lived, of course…" _Looks like the police team's gone home for the day…_

"There might be some clues lying around!" Trucy said. "Let's get cracking, Polly!" she said. I nodded, looking around. The first thing that caught my eye…

"Look at all these bowls…" Trucy gasped, spotting the teetering, towering pile of red ramen bowls off to the side. I walked over and picked one up, gasping at the inside.

"They're from Eldoon's Noodles! There's Mr. Salty!" I said.

"Then, I think we've figured something out," Trucy said softy.

"I think we have," I agreed.

"Mr. Eldoon must do take-out!" she suddenly said excitedly. I stared at her for a few minutes in silence, trying to figure out if she was serious or not.

 _Not exactly what I was thinking…_ I thought once I decided she had been serious. Trucy suddenly gasped again.

"All the bowls have been washed clean!" she reported.

"I think we've found our first clue, Trucy," I said, putting the bowl down and looking around some more.

"Hey, Polly! Look at this sign on the desk," Trucy said. I came over, curious. "'Please pay your bill: Remember, we're the ones holding the scalpel,'" she read.

"Wow," I shivered. "I'm sure glad Dad never sent us here…"

"Seriously!" Trucy added, turning away. "Hey, look! There's a single pair of sandals here…" she said. I looked over to see a pair of sandals that were made from a wedge and blue ribbons.

"Wait, but why would there be sandals here?" I asked in confusion. "Unless they belong to one of the patients…"

"Or maybe it's a visitor that's come to see Dr. Meraktis," Trucy added. I shook my head.

"You'd think they'd use his house entrance instead of the clinic entrance, in that case," I replied, before shaking my head. "And, it this patient or visitor isn't still here…" I added.

"Why'd they leave without their shoes?" Trucy asked. I nodded, carefully picking the shoes up.

"Right." _Better take a closer look at these, just in case…_ I studied the shoes before gasping, spotting a big toe print. I quickly analyzed it.

"Ah-ha! Ema was right!" I said.

"Huh?" Trucy asked. I turned, showing her the print and how it matched the one we pulled off the slippers.

"She said we might be surprised at the chance of finding another print," I explained, before looking at the shoes again. "Now we just have to find the owner of these shoes," I explained. Trucy grinned.

"Then we'll know who else was at the crime scene!" she said.

"Exactly," I said. I looked around a little more before heading over to the office door.

"Look! This door says 'Doctor's Office'!" Trucy said brightly.

"Very good! You can read!" I teased, earning another pinch.

"Ow!"

 _THUMP_

"Ah! Polly! That sound… it came from behind this door!" Trucy gasped, grabbing my arm.

 _Someone's in there!_ "L-let's check it out, Trucy!" I said, throwing the door open and rushing in.

When we entered, the office was empty, and the window was open. I ran over to it.

"A break-in!" I yelled. "They left through that window!" I put my foot on the sill, ready to propel myself through it, when Trucy grabbed my arm.

"Wait, Apollo! You're too late to catch them now!" Trucy said. I looked at her and nodded.

 _This is Stickler all over again, but more serious!_ "Well, we should tell the police!" I replied.

"Let's check the room out, first, Apollo! If we call the police now, we'll lose our chance," Trucy said. I hesitated before nodding.

"You're right," I said. _But it feels wrong… even if Dad and Mystic Maya did this all the time…_

"Well, one thing's for certain," Trucy said with a smile. "This clinic and our murder case are looking pretty related now!"

"Heh, yeah," I said, looking around.

"Look at that lamp. It's kind of an expensive-looking one, isn't it?" Trucy said, moving closer. "Hey… the bulb's broken."

"Broken?" I asked, barely glancing over. "Don't you mean burned-out?"

"No. Our cat burglar must have dropped it," she said. I looked over at the lamp again, surprised to see it standing in the middle of the floor. The bulb was indeed broken.

"If it was dropped, why is it standing up on the floor like that then?" I asked.

"Hey, look at the cord," Trucy gasped. I quickly looked to where she pointed.

 _Huh? There's a red splotch on a part of the cord…_ "You think that's… blood?" I asked as I moved closer, my voice hushed.

"It's a little bright for blood," Trucy pointed out. Once I was close enough, I saw what she was talking about. "Almost pinkish," she added.

"Something's definitely odd about this lamp, that's for sure," I said, taking both pictures on my phone and notes, adding them to my court record.

"So, who do you think broke in?" I asked as we looked around.

"Maybe it was just a burglar who happened to pick here?" Trucy suggested.

"Yeah, but there's a patrol car sitting out front. If I were a burglar, I'd come back the next day at least," I pointed out.

"I'd give it a month, myself," Trucy said thoughtfully. I shook my head at her.

 _Whoever broke in obviously needed to break in today…_

"That burglar must have left in a hurry," Trucy commented thoughtfully. "Look at this mess. It's worse than Daddy's room!"

"That's true," I said with a laugh, coming over to look at the desk. "Even the cup on the desk here is lying on its side," I said, before noticing something. "Huh? The juice that spilled out of that cup… it's dry," I muttered.

"So, the messy one wasn't our burglar just now!" Trucy said. I nodded.

"Right. Someone knocked this cup over a while ago and left it," I deduced, before finally turning my attention to the elephant in the room.

"That safe…" I muttered.

"What a cute little safe!" Trucy said brightly. I moved closer, studying it.

"Hmm, looks like a four-digit lock," I said. Trucy gasped.

"Someone's already entered in two numbers, Polly! Seven… Nine… wait, do you think…" she trailed off as I quickly looked at her.

"That burglar just now was trying to open it!?" I asked, finishing her question. _I wonder what's inside this safe…?_

"Hmm… is there any way we can figure out the last two numbers?" Trucy questioned. I turned back to the safe, pressing my finger against my forehead thoughtfully.

"Well, we know the first two are seven and nine…" I said, staring at the little, glowing green numbers.

"Maybe there's something in the Court Record?" Trucy suggested. "Something that can help us figure out the last two numbers?"

 _Hmm… I wonder…_ I thought over everything we had, until something suddenly struck me.

"Well, I have an idea…"

"I knew it, Polly! What is it?" Trucy demanded.

 _Well… all we have to know is what buttons have been pressed. You don't have to be a magician to figure out this trick…_ "We can use this to find out what the next two numbers are!" I said, holding up our bottle of fingerprint powder. "After all, when you press the buttons, you'd have to touch them… with your finger, right?" I said.

"It would leave a print!" Trucy gasped.

"When you open a safe, you don't press any other buttons but the right ones, right? So, if we can find the buttons with fingerprints…"

"We'll have the safe code! Not bad, Polly!" Trucy said, hugging my arm. I laughed before starting to sprinkle the powder on the buttons, and blowing away the extra.

"Look! You can see the oily finger residues clearly," I said, before noticing something. "Look at seven and nine…"

"These are glove marks. The burglar must have been wearing gloves," Trucy noticed.

"Well, we might not be able to identify the burglar, but we can open this safe!" I said, looking at the two numbers left. I knew I had a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right. I just hoped it wasn't attached to an alarm.

Thankfully, I didn't have to find out. The door opened on the first try. I sighed in relief, before looking in.

Two things caught my eye. A mark in the back wall of the safe, and a file.

"This looks like a bullet hole!" I gasped, pointing to the mark.

"Hmm… you can still see the bullet sticking out of it," Trucy said.

"Why is it in the middle of a safe…?" I wondered, not paying too much attention to Trucy.

"Hey, the bullet came out!" she gasped. My head snapped up, and I secretly thanked god that she was wearing gloves. "The tip is all squished."

"Not surprising given that it was fired into a metal safe," I commented, looking at the bullet in Trucy's hand. _This bullet's got a story behind it, that's for sure…_ I thought, pulling out an evidence baggy for it. While I secured it in my bag, Trucy opened the file.

"This looks like… a medical chart. There's an X-ray in here with it," she announced. I looked over her shoulder at it.

"An X-ray…? Hmm… I can't make heads or tails of it," I admitted. "And I can't read the chart either, it's all in medical-speak."

"But the names are easy enough to read," Trucy said. "Look, by 'Patient' it says… 'Wocky Kitaki'! So this is Wocky… our client's chart, huh?"

"Why would this one chart be here in his safe…?" I asked, taking the file. "Let's see, the physician's signature says 'Pal Meraktis'… Ah…"

"What is it, Apollo?" Trucy asked. I showed her the file, pointing to a third disturbingly familiar name.

"Look here where it says who filed the chart…"

"Let's see," Trucy mused, before gasping. "'Nurse Alita Tiala'!"

"Alita Tialita is Wock's fiancée!" I said. Trucy gave me an odd look.

"That's one 'ita' too many, Apololo!" she teased. I sighed, slumping slightly as my spikes drooped into my eyes.

"Never mind that, what's her name doing here!?" I demanded.

"How should I know?" Trucy replied. "Though… I guess it means she's on staff at this clinic?"

"Odd that she neglected to mention this before now…" I grumbled.

"I'm sure she had her reasons," Trucy said.

"So, Alita Tiala worked at the Meraktis Clinic… and she had access to Wocki Kitaky's medical chart!" I muttered.

"You got the 'I' and 'Y' wrong, Apollt Wrigho!" Trucy teased again.

"I'd be very interested to find out what this chart says," I said, ignoring her once more as I slid the file into my bag.

"Maybe we should go visit Wocky again," Trucy suggested. I nodded, leading the way back to the Detention Center.

…

"Don't cry angel, Daddy's back and Daddy's…" Wocky Kitaki opened his eyes as he sat, and cut off. "Oh. You again."

"Do you always have to announce your entrances like that?" I asked as Trucy giggled.

"Man, my old man, he… man! Now I'm all in a funk, and it's his fault," the boy growled.

 _One can only assume that his father tried to teach him a less. And failed, clearly…_ I thought.

"You two got your work cut out for you, straight up. Course, I don't care if they lock me up. I'm ready to go!" Wocky continued.

 _Some days, I wonder why I didn't just keep performing as a magician. I wonder if Dad had clients as difficult as Wocky._

 _Well, there WAS Larry Butz…_ I thought, remembering the transcript from Dad's very first case.

"So, you don't call if you're found guilty of murder!?" Trucy demanded.

"Hey, it's all experience, you feel me, shorty? Like a badge of honor," Wocky said with a cocky grin. He seemed to realize something, and his face fell. "They don't give the death pentalty, do they?"

"…You didn't really do it, did you?" Trucy asked.

"…Maybe I did, maybe I didn't," Wocky replied, not meeting either of our eyes.

 _If I've learned one thing today, it's that 'silence' speaks louder than words,_ I thought, shaking my head.

"So your dad was here?" I asked.

"Man, my old man is wack. Disappointing, that's what he is," Wocky growled.

"I heard he wants to leave the mob?" Trucy asked.

"Over my dead body!" Wocky snapped. "I spend my life, trying to keep it real, being an O.G. and never stepping down. Now my old man wants to go soft? Find, let him. Just leave me out of it," Wocky said dismissively, and I gave vent to an internal sigh. "The day I get out of the clink… That's the day Alita and I start the next generation of the Kitaki Family."

 _Please don't talk as though it's assumed you're going to jail… for my sake…_ I thought, before deciding to change the subject.

"Wocky, you don't happen to recognize these, do you?" I asked, pulling out the sandals.

"Hey! Sure I do! I was the one who bought 'em for her," the boy said brightly.

"For… Ms. Tiala?" Trucy asked.

"Yeah. A birthday present," Wocky said with a grin, playing with his bangs. "She's got mad little feet. Mad! So cute, man."

"So these sandals are hers…" Trucy said softly.

"Yeah… I kinda had a feeling," I admitted.

"What's up with the funky vibes?" Wocky asked, looking between the two of us. I just shook my head, making a note about the sandals. As I put my notebook back in my bag, my hand bumped into Wocky's medical file. That gave me an idea. I carefully pulled open the file, flipped it open, and showed him.

"Huh? What's that? Some kinda x-ray?" Wocky asked, before looking closer. "Wait…"

"That's right, Wocky," I said. "It's yours."

"Hey look, I don't smoke or nothing. I'll live long, right?" he asked.

"I don't think he gets it, Apollo," Trucy said. I nodded, pointing to the chart opposite of the x-ray. "Take a closer look. Here, in particular… where is says 'Nurse.' It's signed 'Alita Tiala,'" I said.

"Huh." Wocky sat back in his chair, looking at me over the file. "You lawyers do your homework."

"So, you met Ms. Tiala when you…" Trucy began.

"Yeah, I met her at the clinic. So?" Wocky asked.

"Could you tell us a bit about the circumstances of your meeting?" I asked.

"Fine, fine! I'll tell you how we met if you want to know that bad," he snapped. "When I was shot during that turf war, my homies hauled me off to the doc's."

"The Meraktis Clinic," Trucy said, remembering the story.

"That's where I met her. My fallen angel…" he sighed dreamily.

"You mean Alita Tiala?" I asked.

"She was scared of me at first, turns out. But you know what they say – the bad guy always gets the ladies," he said.

"Right…" I mumbled, glancing at Trucy. _That better not be true for Trucy…_

"She was done with that clinic anyhow. So I was like, I'll take you on, woman! Straight gangster style. Guess what she said?" Wocky challenged with a grin.

"What did she say?" Trucy asked.

"C'mon, give it some thought! She said it real quiet-like, on the down low, know what I'm saying? 'I'll leave… if you'll marry me,'" Wocky said.

"So… that was the proposal?" I asked.

"You know it!" Wocky said brightly. "An oath of love, right there in the hospital room. Just like that, the op was done, and we were outta there. See you later, bye!"

"Um, about that 'op'…" I began.

"Yeah," Wocky sighed, looking down and losing his grin. "Didn't go so well after all, did it? I know about the report. I know it's still in me."

"This health check-up was the Boss's idea, you said?" Trucy asked.

"Yeah. Can you imagine? What's the point of living healthy when you're a G, you know what I'm saying?" Wocky replied, looking up.

"But didn't you learn about the bullet at that check-up?" Trucy asked.

"Yeah… that's when I knew that doctor had to pay. Figured I could get that cap pulled after I got my revenge. And hey, I'm still living large now, aren't I?" Wocky said, adding the last bit with a grin. I shook my head slightly.

"Incidentally… had you ever had a health check-up before?" I asked.

"Naw, my old man suddenly gets this idea that we all gotta get check-ups! Guess he's getting old," Wocky said thoughtfully, before adding, "older, I mean."

I nodded. "Well, thank you for your time, Wocky. This is probably the last time we'll visit tonight. See you tomorrow, 'kay? Try to get some sleep," I said.

"You, whatever," the boy said, crossing his arms. I shrugged at Trucy, leading her out.

"One more stop," I said. "The we'll get dinner and visit Dad."

"Okay!" Trucy said brightly.

…

"Mr. Eldoon! We've been looking all over for you!" Trucy said, bouncing up to the man.

"What's the matter, Trucy-doll?" Eldoon asked.

"We need you to look at something we found," I said, pulling out the chart. "Nothing like expert advice."

Eldoon suddenly sniffled. I noticed his eyes looked a little glassy.

"Mr. Eldoon!" I gasped. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm just – sniffle – so happy! I just though my doctor days were gone for good…" he sniffled again, before wiping his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Mr. Eldoon…" I said softly. He shook his head, and held out his hand.

"Let's see it." I handed the chart over. "Hrm? A medical chart? Hey, you shouldn't go taking this from clin-!" his eyes had roamed over the file as he talked, and he suddenly cut off.

"Why the sudden silence, Mr. Eldoon?" Trucy asked.

"What…?" Mr. Eldoon gasped. "What's going on here!?" he demanded, looking up at me.

"That's what we want to know!" I said. "That chart belongs to my client."

"He's on trial… on suspicion of murder," Trucy added. Eldoon's eyes grew wide with worry.

"On trial! That's crazy! You can't put him on trial! He's ABD!"

"…ABD?" Trucy asked, voicing my question.

"'All but dead.' He's knocking on the Pearly Gates, and someone's about to answer," he answered. Trucy and I exchanged a worried look, before looking back at the noodle vender/surgeon.

"C-can you tell us why?" I asked. Eldoon took a deep breath, reaching up and pulling off his hat. To my surprise, his blond, noodle like hair came off with it, revealing black hair in a neat haircut. He stood up straight, one arm crossed over his chest, his other hand holding the chart. Even the look on his face was more serious.

"Well, permit me to speak as a surgeon. You listen up good now, son," he said.

 _No way… It's like he's a completely different person…_ I thought, pulling out my notebook just in case I needed to take notes.

"Well, according to this chart… this "Wocky Kitaki" feller's not doing so well," Eldoon started. "He's got a bullet right up side his heart!"

"That's right," I confirmed, already knowing that.

"Yeah, but this chart talks about post-op… in other words, the operation is already finished! But you can still see that bullet stuck in there," Eldoon said.

"Why would it still be in there after the operation to remove it?" I asked.

"Well, 'bout the only reason I can think of is, it was too tricky to operate on," Eldoon replied.

"What…?" Trucy gasped.

"That bullet's snug as a bug there next to the aorta, which is connected to the heart. Heck, that scrap of metal's just surrounded by blood vessels. Kind of a miracle. Two millimeters to either side and there'd be some serious bleeding going on in there. Not something yer average doc'd be eager to fiddle with," Eldoon explained, studying the chart again.

"Y-you mean…" Trucy started.

"It took a miracle to get that bullet stuck where it is. I'd take more than a miracle to take it out. It'd take a magician," he said, looking between the two of us. We glanced at each other.

"Um… I'm only up to making rabbits disappear. I haven't learned bullets yet," Trucy said.

"And I don't think the Kitakis would be too eager to give me a shot at it," I said.

"'Course with the heart pumping and lungs working… that bullet's on the move. I'd give him another half a year, tops," Eldoon said.

"B-but Wocky's operation was already a half-year ago!" I gasped.

"That's why I'm saying you're outta time!" Eldoon snapped. "This kid shouldn't be on trial! He should be on an operating table!"

I leaned against the wall of Eldoon's house.

 _Great… just great…_ I thought, before realizing something. _When did I become emotionally invested in Wocky's wellbeing…? Is this… how Dad felt about most of his clients…?_

"How could Dr. Meraktis do such a terrible thing?" Trucy demanded. "How could he just leave that bullet in there?"

"I got a pretty good idea of how he felt… an emergency operation… he's got the kid's chest open on the table. Then he finds the bullet… that's despair right there, Trucy-doll. Cold despair," Eldoon sighed.

"Despair…" Trucy murmured.

"'Bout the only thing he could do is sew the boy back up. He wasn't exactly in the situation to go admitting he couldn't take it out."

"The Kitakis…" Trucy breathed.

"You bet. This kid's their only son, I hear. So, he skips the operation, and Wocky's back on the street living his life. 'Course, it's only a matter of time before his heart hemorrhages and he drops cold," Eldoon continued.

"How awful…!" Trucy gasped.

"And which doctor would they take him to? Meraktis. He's got enough ties to them, he could probably cover up the truth of what happened."

"That's just horrible! He left Wocky to die!" I looked up, noticing tear starting to form in the corners of Trucy's eyes. Pushing off the wall, I walked over to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"There's a darkness in this world, Trucy-doll," Eldoon said softly. "Waiting, hungry. Compared to it, these gangs' turf wars are like kid games. When you're up against real evil… well, it doesn't matter if you're weak or strong. It'll take you all the same."

 _That's way too true. I just wish Trucy didn't have to see it…_ I mused, thinking back to the darkness I've seen.

"You were a surgeon, right Mr. Eldoon!?" Trucy asked. "You could operate on Wocky, couldn't you!?" she pleaded.

"I wish…" Eldoon sighed.

"What?"

"I'm afraid there ain't nobody in the country that could. Maybe not even in the world…" Eldoon sighed.

"So… So Wocky…" Trucy gasped, tears pooling in her eyes.

"He's real lucky to be alive even now…" Eldoon said softly.

"No!" Trucy gasped.

Something suddenly struck me. I grabbed the cart from Eldoon and looked it over again, a glacier dropping into my stomach.

"There's one problem…" I said.

"Apollo?" Trucy asked, looking up at me, wiping at her eyes.

"This chart… Look at the 'Nurse' section… Alita Tiala," I said, my voice cold.

"That's right! This operation was how they met…" Trucy gasped.

"Yeah, the problem is, she knew. She knew about Wocky's condition, guaranteed," I said.

"Ah…" Trucy gasped softly.

"Why didn't she ever tell him?" I asked. Eldoon looked between the two of us, a knowing, and sad, expression on his face. I pressed my finger against my forehead.

 _It doesn't make sense… if she knew her patient was in serious danger… you'd think she'd want to get that second operation before getting engaged!_

"What was she thinking, Apollo!?" Trucy cried.

 _What were you thinking, Alita Tiala?_

…

 **A/N:** Here we are!

I know you don't see much of Apollo doing his magician thing in this chapter. I didn't know where to put it.

On the other hand, Turnabout Serenade will have a lot of those moments, considering!

Two more things. I didn't, at all, change anything about that last conversation between Trucy and Eldoon. That being said, I've recently come to ship Trucy and Wocky (once Trucy hits 18), and that conversation only made that stronger.

Finally, when Apollo keeps messing up the names, I wonder if those were typos made, and the writers decided to go along with it by having Trucy tease him, rather than fix the mistakes. I believe they did, hehe.

The next chapter will come soon!


	20. 17: The New Kitaki Leaf

**A/N:** Here we are! Yet another chapter! I don't know how much this trial day will change from the game to be honest, but I DO know the next two chapters will be "non-case" chapters before we jump into Turnabout Serenade, which will be different, thanks to people from Apollo and Trucy's past and everything.

I've also decided I am going to do Dual Destinies, because… well… I played the last two cases, and… Apollo… Clay… feels… so much to play with there…. GAH!

 **Review Reply to Guest** : I'm glad you're enjoying it! I'm going to have a lot of fun writing that meeting, to be honest. Three more chapters until that point though!

Alright, enough talking for me. ONWARD!

…

Chapter 17: The New Kitaki Leaf

 _June_

"So, this is it, the big day!" Trucy said, flopping down on the couch next to me while I was going through the evidence we managed to collect yesterday. I had an idea of who the real perpetrator was, and even motive, but I was missing the _means_. How did the real killer do it without being seen by Wocky _or_ Stickler? "Did you get any sleep?"

"Yeah," I hummed. "I went to bed at one or so."

"Oh?" Trucy asked, looking at me curiously. "What time did you wake up?"

I hesitated before answering.

"Three…"

"That's only two hours, Apollo," Trucy said a little worriedly, before shrugging. "But, at least you have me!" she said brightly, jumping to her feet and fiddling with something behind her back. In a blur of blue, her large puppet spun into view, swiping her hat. "And the Amazing Mr. Hat!"

"Here's looking at you, kid," Mr. Hat said brightly, before vanishing again.

"Good luck today, Apollo," a familiar voice said from the door. I looked up and grinned.

"Hey, Dad!"

"Heya. Get any sleep?" he asked, ruffling my hair. I huffed, fixing it, before looking away.

"Eh…"

He laughed, shaking his head. "I was going out of my mind with boredom, so I signed myself out earlier today," he admitted. "Somehow, that place makes fake piano playing at the Indochine past joint seem almost fun," he said, talking about his new job (after the Smith case, the Borsht Club had to let him go).

"Daddy!" Trucy said brightly. "Do you know who Prosecutor Gavin's witness is today?" she asked. Dad grinned.

"Take a guess!"

"Hmm… how about Little Plum?" Trucy asked. Dad laughed at that.

"That Sherman tank of a mom?" he asked, before shaking his head. "Nope, guess again."

"That's too bad," Trucy sighed, before looking at Dad with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You know, speaking of moms… you need to find us a new mommy one of these days, Daddy!"

"It's barely morning and you're at it already, Trcuy!" Dad laughed, before looking at me. "Apollo, control your sister!"

"You should know by now that's impossible," I replied, shaking my head. I knew exactly who Trucy had in mind for our 'new mommy.' "So, Dad. Do you know who the prosecution's witness is?" I asked. Dad sighed.

"Alita Tiala. Your client's fiancée," he said. I gasped softly.

 _She's going to be a witness!?_

"But that seems odd…" Trucy mused. "Why would she testify against her own fiancé?" she asked.

"You have to wonder what Gavin's up to," Dad said, catching my eye. I nodded slightly, both of us remembering that trial from seven years ago.

 _Something's going down today, that much is clear!_

"Well, not to worry," Trucy said brightly. "I've got my panties back. If we can't find a killer, I'll pull one out of there!"

I chuckled, wrapping an arm around her.

"See, this is why I keep you around, little sis. You're good for a laugh every now and again," I said, steering her into the courtroom.

"Thanks!" she said brightly, before frowning. "Wait…"

…

"Court is now in session for the trial of Wocky Kitaki," the Judge announced once everyone was settled in their places.

"The defense is ready, Your Honor," I announced.

"Prosecution is warmed up, and it's a sold-out house," Gavin said, snapping his fingers to a song in his head. I rolled my eyes slightly at that.

"Very well, to recap…" the judge began, glancing down at his notes. "While yesterday's witness seemed more guilty than any other party…" he began.

"Guilty of panty-snatching!" Trucy said.

"We did find out one thing for certain," the Judge continued as though she hadn't said anything. "There were three people in the park at the time of the murder: The witness, the victim, and the defendant."

"Correct, Herr Judge. And today, I'd like to do something a little new age," Gavin announced. "I'd like to look at this horrible crime… from the outside."

"The 'outside'?" I asked.

"The acquisition of the murder weapon, the preparation for the act…" the prosecutor shook his head before leaning forward with a smirk. "Our poor defendant told all, you see… to his betrothed."

"His… bee trove?" the Judge asked in confusion. It took a large amount of self-control to keep from face-palming at that.

"His fiancée, Herr Judge," Gavin clarified. "His partner for life… with no chance for parole."

"Very well, you may show the erm… 'lucky' lady to the stand," The Judge granted. Alita stepped up to the stand.

"Your name an occupation, Fräulein," Gavin said.

"Alita Tiala. My occupation…" she hesitated before smiling. "Is future wife."

"Ah, traditional values!" the Judge sighed. "I respect that. Too many brides these days can't even weave baskets blindfolded… underwater." _Um…_ _What…?_ "Yet you're here today as a witness for the prosecution?"

To be honest, I didn't want to testify at first," Alita sighed, looking away sadly. "But… I couldn't hide the truth…"

"Hmm. Honesty!" the judge said brightly. "Another admirable trait."

"Fräulein, is it true that, on the day of the crime, the defendant, Wocky Kitaki confessed his plans?" Gavin asked. "His plans… for murder?"

Alita hesitated for a moment, before sighing, looking down. "Yes," she sighed.

"The witness will please give her testimony to the court!" the Judge announced.

"It was the day that the family health check-up results came back," Alita started. "When Wocky found out that Dr. Meraktis had lied, he flew into a rage. 'I'll teach him!' he said. He took one of the Family's pistols…" Alita sighed. "And you already know what happened that night. I… just don't see how anyone but Wocky could have done it…" she finished.

"So, the pistol did belong to the Kitaki Family, then," the judge asked.

"Yes. With regards to this, an investigation is underway at the Kitaki mansion… on charges of the possession of illegal firearms," Gavin announced.

"And the bullet that took the victim's life?" Was it…?" the judge began. Gavin nodded.

"Fired from the pistol the defendant procured? Yes, this has been proven."

"How can you prove something like that?" Trucy asked.

"Bullets carry marks from the barrel that fired them," I explained. "Called 'rifling marks' or 'ballistic marks.'"

"Rifling marks? Balistic marks?" Trucy asked.

"Think of them as being a gun's fingerprint, left on every bullet it fires," Gavin explained. Trucy nodded, and I turned to the witness.

"And when did you first hear about Wocky's plan?" I asked.

"It was the day of the murder," Alita admitted. "I… I should have stopped him!" she cried. "I just didn't think he would actually do it!"

"Very well. The defense may begin the cross-examination," the Judge said. I nodded, thinking back over the testimony.

"When the results came back… that was the day of the murder, correct?" I asked.

"Yes. Everyone in the Family received their check-up results that day," she said, before shaking her head, looking down. "When Wocky looked at his, his face went so pale…"

"But of course," Gavin said. "He had just found out he had a bullet in his chest!"

"So, you were there at the time?" I asked.

"Yes… Poor Wocky," Alita said softly.

"So, is it easy to take a pistol out from the house?" I asked.

"Not really, I think," Alita admitted. "There's a system in place to limit access. But Wocky's a special case, being the next-in-line."

"Perhaps his treatment was a bit too special, ja?" Gavin asked.

"Well, maybe he is a bit spoiled… I hear he got amazing presents for his birthdays. Last year was a switchblade made out of chewing gum and a chocolate gravestone!" Alita said brightly.

I crossed my arms. _Sounds like he has a taste for sweets… and danger_ , I thought, wondering where one would even find presents like that. Unless his birthday was Halloween…

"The point here being that Wocky had access to a pistol," the Judge said, returning my thoughts to the trial.

"I tried to stop him, I really did!" Alita said. "But Wocky wouldn't listen…"

"Our defendant was nothing if not determined, it seems," Gavin added.

"The last thing you should do is blame yourself, miss!" the Judge said soothingly.

"So, you say you don't see how anyone other than the defendant could have done this? How can you say that for certain? How!?" I demanded.

"Ah…" Alita said, unsure of how to answer.

" _Objection!_ " Gavin yelled. "Her Forehead, you will refrain from badgering the Fräulein. It was the defendant… erm, Wocky, was it… who took the pistol from his home. We know this for a fact now."

"I supposed we do," the Judge conceded.

"So, how could anyone else have used this pistol to shoot the victim? They could not. Simple logic, ja?" Gavin said.

"That does seem to be the case. Does the defense have anything to say regarding this point?" the Judge asked, turning to look at me. I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts.

"Based on the testimony, there was clearly another…" I began. "One other person had access to that pistol!"

"What's this?" Gavin asked, surprised.

"Hmm… Interesting!" the Judge said brightly. "Let's ask the defense then… Tell the court who this other person with access was!"

I nodded, before turning and looking the witness straight in the eye. "Well, of course, I mean you, Ms. Tiala," I said. She gasped.

"M-me? But why…" she demanded. I shook my head.

"You were quite clear when you told the court: you heard about the pistol from the defendant on the day of the murder. In other words, you knew what he was planning," I reasoned.

" _Objection!_ " Gavin yelled. "Let me get this straight… you intend to tell us that this lady stole the pistol from her fiancé… and killed a man in cold blood on his behalf? I've heard of people doing strange things for love, but this…" he trailed off.

"It does seem a bit… unfathomable, to be sure," the Judge agreed. "I'm all for romance, and supporting your partner in life, to be sure. But I think I would hesitate at murder!"

 _I'd hope you'd do more than hesitate!_ I thought in surprise. "But what if a different connection could be proven? A _connection_ between the witness and the victim? We might find that she had a _personal motive_ beyond wanting to help her fiancé," I said.

"Hmm, that would put things in a slightly different light," Gavin agreed. "What possible connection are you suggesting here?" he asked.

"You know what I'm starting to think?" Trucy suddenly said. "I'm starting to think that the police never looked inside that safe."

 _You're right!_ I thought with a smirk. "I have evidence showing a connection between the witness Ms. Tiala and the victim!" I announced, pulling out Wocky's medical chart. _"Take that!_ " I announced, presenting it.

"That looks like… a medical chart?" the judge asked.

"Found inside a safe at the Meraktis Clinic," I explained. "I'd like to draw the court's attention to the names written on the chart," I said as it appeared on the monitors. The camera zoomed into where I indicated.

"What!?" the Judge gasped once he spotted it. "Ms. Tiala! Whatever… why is your name on this chart!?" he demanded. Alita's eyes widened, but she didn't answer.

"Well, care to explain the meaning of this, Ms. Tiala?" I asked.

Alita hesitated a moment longer before frowning, crossing her arms and glaring at me. "I'm not sure what you mean by 'meaning,' Mr. Wright!" she countered coldly. My eyes widened, and I even took half a step back, bringing my arm up to protect myself from the force of her glare.

 _Our warm little fiancée just froze over!_

"I was on staff at that clinic until half a year ago," she said. "It was boring. So I quit. That's all. Is there a problem with that?" she demanded.

"Ms. Tiala! You testified that you had no connection to the victim!" the Judge gasped.

"And I don't. Now."

"'Now'…?" I asked.

"I quit half a year ago, didn't I?" she asked. "So there's no connection." She turned and looked at the judge with an icy look. "Let me guess, you're the kind of guy… who can't rest until he knows every last detail of his girlfriend's past. Am I right?"

"Th-that's not true at all!" the judge said, sounding hurt. "Why, I… I embrace the ones I love, past flaws and all, no matt—"

" _Objection!"_ I yelled. _That was getting nowhere fast..._ "'There's no connection now' doesn't fly in a court of law!" I said.

"Doesn't… fly…?" she asked, looking at me

 _She's one touch nut. She probably feels right at home with the Kitakis!_ I thought. "You left your job at the Meraktis Clinic, true," I conceded. "But you remained connected somehow!"

"Very well, Mr. Wright," the Judge said. "Show us evidence that proves the witness is still connected to the Meraktis Clinic!"

I nodded, pulling the next item I needed from my bag of tricks. " _Take that!_ " I yelled, holding them up. "These sandals were found in the Meraktis Clinic lobby." I turned my eyes on her. "They're yours, aren't they?"

"Ah!" she gasped, before quickly trying to cover it up. "W-well, who knows? I'm sure there are lots of people with those sandals," he replied.

"So sorry, Fräulein, but your act isn't working," Gavin cut in before I could answer. I looked at him, surprised. I wasn't the only one. "You moment of hesitation just now cost you."

"Wh-what's with you?" Alita demanded. "I thought you were on my side!"

"Perhaps you are unaware that toes leave 'toe prints'? A simple analysis of these sandals will reveal all," Gavin said with a smirk. I glanced in the sandal, where the toe print still was, surprised at Gavin's words.

"Well, now we see your true colors," Alita snapped. "I was wrong to cooperate with you from the beginning! I just wanted… I just wanted you to help get Wocky back on the straight and narrow."

"Hmm…" the Judge hummed thoughtfully. "This court thinks you need to worry less about Wocky and more about yourself. It sounds as though we need to hear a bit more about your story."

"Your sandals were found in the entrance to the clinic… which means you went there on the day of the murder!" I announced.

"Well, there's little point in denying it," Alita snapped.

"Very well. The witness will tell us about this visit. Why did you go to the Meraktis Clinic that day?" the Judge asked.

"I did go to the clinic that day. My first time in half a year, since I quite in January. I went to warn him. After all, I knew Wocky had the pistol. The doctor always was a timid man," Alita said in disgust. "Too timid to admit his own mistake. Why else would I have gone? I'm not hiding dark secrets. I wanted to tell him to be careful, as an old friend," she testified. I pulled out my deck and began shuffling it, the movement helping me to focus my thoughts.

"By 'mistake,' you mean… the mistake we heard about from the defendant? The botched operation?"

"He was a timid, small man… but I never wished him arm. I just thought I should let him know, you know?"

"Hmm… that does make sense," the Judge hummed.

"Yes, but there is still one thing which does not," Gavin suddenly said, before I could speak up.

"What's that, Prosecutor Gavin?" the Judge asked.

"The sandals left in the lobby, of course. We can assume she wore these sandals to the clinic, ja? Then why did she not wear them home? If it were me, I would have worn them home," Gavin pointed out.

"I would have worn those sandals home, too," the Judge agreed.

"So, why were the sandals left behind?" Gavin demanded.

 _Ack!_ I thought, nearly dropping my cards. _He pointed out the contradiction before me!_

"There's probably a good explanation for this. Right, Ms. Tiala?" Gavin asked. "Say, for instance… there happened to be a similar pair of sandals there which you wore home by mistake?" Alita looked at him in surprise for a moment before smiling.

"Actually, that's right. I'm impressed, Mr. Gavin," she said in a honey like voice. I narrowed my eyes.

"Oh, it is nothing," the man laughed. "There is, after all, no other possible explanation. Ja, Herr Forehead?" he asked, turning his eyes to me. I narrowed my own eyes coldly.

 _Oh. I see what he's doing. He's filling the holes in her testimony…_

"The defense may begin the cross-examination," the Judge announced.

I nodded, deciding to not beat around the bush anymore, but to cut straight to the heart of the matter.

I had the evidence, after all.

"That's the only reason you went?" I demanded.

"Yes. Like I said, I'm not hiding any dark secrets," she repeated.

" _Objection!_ " I yelled, whipping the medical chart out again. "This chart was found inside a safe in the doctor's office," I said.

"Yes?" Alita said.

"Why would this _one_ chart be in that safe. Ms. Tiala, you know why it was, don't you?" I demanded. Alita jerked back with a soft gasp.

"Mind filling me in?" the Judge asked.

"Dr. Meraktis didn't have the leisure of making 'mistakes,'" I explained. "That's why he wrote up a false report, and kept the truth locked away."

"…Bad Herr Doktor," Gavin muttered.

"And this is where you come in, Ms. Tiala," I said, turning to the woman. She glared at me, but I ignored it. "The nurse who filed this chart was you, which means… you knew about Wocky's failed operation!"

"Interesting…" the Judge mused.

"You were in the same position as Dr. Meraktis! Kind of makes it hard to claim 'no connection,' doesn't it?" I demanded. The woman scoffed.

"You're bold for a novice, I'll give you that," she said coldly. I narrowed my eyes, wondering where he was going with this.

"Mr. Wright, you must know I was only a nurse. The doctor is responsible for the cart's contents," she explained. I noticed something, before dropping my eyes to my bracelet, feeling it tighten.

"Hmm… this cart business seems to be quite important. Please amend your testimony accordingly," the Judge demanded.

"Too bad, little attorney," the woman smirked. I dragged my eyes away from my wrist and met her smirk with one of my own, which unnerved her slightly.

"Apollo?" Trucy asked.

"You mean you didn't see it, Trucy? She was _lying_ ," I explained. "Her nervous habit gave her away."

"No… I didn't see anything, Apollo," Trucy admitted. I looked over at her curiously, and she huffed in an annoyed little sister way. "This sucks. Your senses are sharper than mine," she pouted. I smiled at that with a shrug.

"Whoops?" I laughed, before turning back to the woman. "Alright, let's find this weak spot in her testimony," I said.

"Why would I go to the clinic now for a half-year-old chart?" Alita demanded, adding the statement to her testimony. My senses narrowed in on her, and as she said now, I noticed her twitching her engagement right.

" _Gotcha!"_ I yelled, pointing at her. "Why go to the clinic for a half-year-old cart now, you ask? But, you know why you would go ' _now,'_ don't you?" I demanded.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Alita replied.

"It was quite clear, Ms. Tiala. You have a nervous habit. The moment you said the word ' _now,_ ' you used you right thumb to fiddle with your ring," I explained.

"Wh-what?" Alita gasped.

 _She was unsure. I saw it. 'Now,' that's the key word!_ "The chart wasn't a part of your past," I explained. "It was a clear and present threat!"

"That's ridiculous. Why, if that were the case… I would have had six months to do something about it!" Alita argued. I nodded.

"Indeed," I agreed.

"Eh?" Alita asked, thrown off guard.

"Which means something happened quite recently… something to make that cart a proplem for you _now_ ," I pressed. Her eyes widened slightly at that.

 _I've got her hooked now, I can feel it! Time for the grand finale!_ "Ms. Tiala. There's no use trying to hid it. The chart became a threat to you now… because of this!" I announced, holding up Wocky's check-up report. It appeared on screen for all to see.

"A health check-up report.. belonging to the defendant," I explained. "The Kitakis are trying to get out of the business. The health check-up this month was their first ever... What did you think when you heard about this?" I asked.

"Eh? Oh, n-nothing. Why should I think anything?" Alita asked.

"Oh? I would think you were positively beside yourself. Because you were afraid," I explained. "You knew what Wocky's chest X-ray would reveal!" I said. Alita gasped, and I pressed the point. "A full half year had passed since the operation. You thought you were home free… when the chart came back to haunt you!" I drove the last nail in her coffin, and she gasped, her eyes wide with fear. With a nod to myself, I stood up straight, having not realized I was leaning over the bench, and looked up at the judge. "That's all, Your Honor," I concluded.

"Wh-what just happened?" the Judge asked in confusion. "Did… the witness just admit to lying?" Alita's eyes widened as though she just realized this herself.

"I sensed it," Gavin said in slight awe, looking over at me. "There was a great 'aura' emanating from Herr Forehead." He smiled. "Very cool." "He looked over at the witness. "So, the lady was lying, it seems."

"That's correct," I said. "She said she had no connection to the Meraktis Clinic. But her connection was deep indeed. A bit too deep. If the Kitakis got a hold of this chart with her name… she'd be finished. Isn't that right, Ms. Tiala?" I asked, looking over at the woman. She shook her head, glaring at me coldly.

"You guessed it." The court erupted as everyone in the gallery began talking.

"Order! Order!" the Judge yelled, slamming his gavel in an attempt to get everyone quite.

 _I did it! I broke her testimony!_ I thought gleefully. Trucy gave me a huge grin.

"Amazing, Apollo! I didn't see it at all! You have a true gift!" she said.

"Wait!" Alita suddenly yelled once everyone was quite. I looked over at her in surprise, and dread.

"Ms. Tiala?" the Judge asked.

"It's true, that chart was bad news for me. That's why I went to meet the doctor that day!" she admitted. "But that's all! I told him about Wocky and went home!"

"It appears this cross-examination is far from over," Gavin mused. I gasped.

"Wh-what!?"

"She hid the truth from us, this is clear, yet… it is not clear that this truth has anything to do with the case at hand!" Gavin explained. I frowned.

"Hmm… very well. The witness will add this to her testimony. And… we'll have a bit more cross-examination," the Judge agreed.

 _Grr! I was so close!_ I thought.

"You're still close!" Trucy hissed, seeming to read my thoughts. "Keep on her, Apollo!"

"Nothing happened at all. I warned him, and left," Alita said, adding it to her testimony.

" _Objection!"_ I yelled, suddenly realizing something. "You say 'nothing happened' in the doctor's office. I disagree. Take a lok at this," I said, pulling out my chosen piece of evidence.

"What's that?" Alita asked, peering at it. "It looks like a squished-up ball of clay." She smirked. "Kind of like you, actually."

"This bullet was found in the Meraktis Clinic office," I explained, ignoring her insult. "Something did 'happen' in that office, Ms. Tiala!"

" _Objection!"_ Gavin yelled, slamming his fist into the wall behind him before pointing at me. "Enough of this joking around. The police investigated that clinic!" he reminded me.

" _Objection!_ " I yelled, before smirking. "Ah, but his was stuck inside the doctor's safe," I explained.

"Inside the safe…?" Gavin gasped.

"We guessed correctly about the police not checking that far," Trucy said brightly.

" _Objection!_ " Gavin yelled. "But there is a problem. How can you say that bullet was fired on that day?" he demanded.

" _Objection!"_ I yelled, before crossing my arms with a smirk. "We could always check the rifling marks, couldn't we?" I suggested. Gavin winced back in surprise, staying quite, and I pressed my advantage. "The pistol was taken from the Kitaki Mansion that day. If the marks on this bullet match the murder weapon… then that proves a firearm was discharged in that office on the day of the murder!"

"Not bad, Herr Forehead," Gavin conceded, smiling at me. I just gave him a curt nod in acknowledgement for the compliment.

"Bailiff!" the judge yelled. "Have this bullet analyzed immediately!"

We waited half an hour for the report. In this time, since we couldn't press further with the trial, I showed Trucy a new card trick I had devised, and she spent the rest of the time trying to figure it out (with no success).

The bailiff finally reentered the room and took the report straight to the Judge. He read it before nodding.

"The rifling marks on both bullets are identical," he announced. "Well, it seems as though the bullet in the safe was fired from the murder weapon." He looked at. "Perhaps the defense would like to state their position?"

"The bullet in that safe proves one fact: a pistol was fired in that office on that day," I started. "And at the time of the firing, the safe was open. The safe which contained the top-secret chart," I explained.

"Do you think someone was threatening Dr. Meraktis? In order to open the safe?" the Judge asked.

"Only one person was in a position to do such a thing," I confirmed, before looking towards the witness stand. "Our witness, Alita Tiala!" I announced, pointing at her. She jumped slightly, and the court erupted.

"Order! Order! Order!" the Judge yelled. "Mr. Wright! Where are you going with this? Are you accusing the witness!?" the Judge demanded.

"Alita Tiala knew about Wocky Kotaki's botched operation!" I began. "She got engaged to him without telling him about it! As long as that bullet remained in his chest, his days were numbered. What if she married him, and then the bullet finally reached its destination?" I said.

"Wh-whaaaat!?" the Judge gasped.

"That reminds me," Gavin suddenly said. "Apparently, the Kitakis have been asserting themselves in lawful business practices… they're making quite a great deal of money… a fortune, if you will."

"Nefarious! So she planned to marry him just to get her hands on this fortune?" the Judge asked.

" _Objection!_ " someone yelled before I could answer. Looking around, I spotted Wocky standing at the defendant's chair, glaring at me. "You keep talking trash about my Alita… and I'll sue you, lawyer-man!" he yelled.

"Huh…? Me!?" I demanded.

"Yeah!" he growled. "You said… you said you'd… you'd abuse my Alita!

"Um, I think you mean 'accuse'…!" I corrected him.

"Same difference!" he snapped. "Well you can't have her! She's mine!" He turned to the judge. "It was me! I shot that doctor! Me!" he yelled. "He left me to die, so I left him to die, too, there in that park!"

"W-Wocky!" I yelled, trying to get through to the distressed boy. "Just cool down a second, please!"

"You keep your hands off my Alita!" he snapped, whirling on me again. "Or I'll—"

Giggling cut off his threat. Looking around, I spotted the source coming from the witness stand. Alita Tiala continued to giggle, wrapping an arm around her stomach.

"M-Ms. Tiala?" the Judge asked. She took a deep breath and stood, shaking her head.

"I-I'm sorry. I just… it's been so long since I've laughed so hard," she admitted.

"Something funny?" I demanded.

"Wocky," she snapped, a cold, condescending look on her face. "Wake up and smell reality!"

"A-Alita-baby?" Wocky asked, his eyes wide.

"The signature on the chart, the engagement… I mean, come on!" Alita said, shaking her head. "It's so obvious. Even for a brainless, spoiled brat such as yourself."

"Alita…" Wocky gasped, both his voice and the look on his face shattered.

"Your honesty is like a breath of foul air, Fräulein," Gavin commented. The woman scoffed.

"Hey, I wasn't getting out of this clean, anyway," she said.

"So… the Family fortune is what you're really after!" I said.

"That's right. I wanted the money," she admitted.

"No way!" Wocky gasped. "That's wack! I ain't trying to hear that!"

"Should have done the wedding earlier," Alita shrugged. "Oh well. By the way," she said, turning to look at me. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Who, me?" I asked.

"I believe you said you were going to abuse me?" she asked. I frowned at her.

"Accuse."

"Of what crime, might I ask?" Alita asked.

"Huh?" I asked.

"Oh, I'm a bad girl. Sure. I got close to that brat because I wanted his money. But he was the one with the pistol. He could've fired it into the safe after I'd already left the clinic," she pressed.

"What…?" I demanded, thrown off guard.

"I would never do a thing like that. It was definitely that silly brat," she continued.

"Wait, but…" I began, trying to gather my thoughts for an argument.

"What are you talking about!?" Trucy suddenly snapped. I looked at her, surprised at the anger etched in every line of her body.

"T-Trucy…?" I asked.

"You had the most to lose if that chart was found!" Trucy pressed. Alita quirked an eyebrow at her.

"But I didn't have a pistol, now did I?" she asked.

"W-well, you could have taken Wocky's!" Trucy countered.

"You' think he'd have mentioned that, no? All I've heard him say is, 'it was me! I shot him!'"

" _Objection!"_ I yelled. "That's only because he was trying to protect you!"

"Sorry to intrude in this lovely conversation," Gavin suddenly said, gaining all three of our attention. "But the two of you are forgetting one critical point."

"What… what point!?" Trucy demanded.

"Certainly, the Fräulein wanted that chart. You assume she threatened the doctor into opening that safe. But then… wouldn't she have taken the chart?" Gavin asked.

"Oh…" Trucy mumbled.

"You see? That chart wouldn't have been left in that safe!" the prosecutor said.

"Ack!" Trucy gasped.

 _He… he's right!_

"Ms. Tiala," the Judge said.

"Yes?" Alita asked.

"It is clear to this court that you are not a very good fiancée," he said.

"Oh, I'm flattered," Alita replied sarcastically.

"Perhaps it's time you told us the truth? Tell us about yourself, including your actions and whereabouts on that day," the Judge demanded.

"Don't forget! We've proven that you were at the Meraktis Clinic on the day of the crime!" I reminded her. She rolled her eyes at me.

"Yes, I went to the clinic that day to speak to the doctor. I wanted that chart, but I failed to get it. So I went back to the clinic later. In any case, I didn't shook him. You don't even have proof I stole that pistol, do you?" she demanded. "And that brat was spotted in the park at the moment of the crime! Frankly, I don't think it matters if Dr. Meraktis was shot in the temple or not," she concluded.

' _Don't think it matters if he was shot in the temple or not'…? Why bring that up? Unless—!_

"You went back 'later'…?" the Judge asked, cutting off my thought.

"That chart was dangerous, you understand. I needed to get rid of it, that's why I went that day," he explained.

"But you couldn't get the chart then, could you?" Gavin asked.

"…And later that night, Dr. Meraktis was shot. I heard about the shooting, waited a day, but then I had to go back… No easy feat with cops all over the place," she admitted. I gasped.

"Th-that was you!?" I demanded, thinking back to how Trucy and I nearly caught the burglar at the clinic yesterday. "So you were the burglar…"

"That was you two?" Alita asked, looking over at us. "If only I had one more minute… then I could have opened that safe and gotten the chart!"

"What!?" the Judge gasped. "That's trespassing! And brazen, at that!"

"Oh, is this a trial for trespassing now?" Alita asked. "Besides… you can't blame a girl for wanting to protect herself… they are gangsters, you know," she said.

"In any case, Mr. Wright, your cross-examination!"

 _Admitting a little crime to avoid the big one, eh?_ I thought, remembering Dad once had a case like that. I then turned my focus to her testimony.

"Why 'that day'?" I asked.

"That brat was uncontrollable. He was ready to kill! And that would bring in the polie… and that cart would become evidence… and I'd be hung out to dry…" she sniffled, a classic case of crocodile tears.

"But the police didn't check the safe, did they?" Trucy asked.

"Well, they thought the crime was the park," I reminded her.

"I'll make sure the responsible parties feel the heat… such sloppiness won't be tolerated, ja?" Gavin added.

 _I'm kinda thankful for that sloppiness myself, actually…_ I thought. _Sloppiness… that last line of her testimony! That's right!_ I returned to my earlier thought, gathering the case I was about to put forward, before beginning.

"The doctor was shot in the right temple, yes?" I asked.

"So it seems," Alita replied.

"Let's review the facts again, shall we?" Gavin said as a diagram of the crime scene appeared on screen. "If the killer shot from this location," he started, pointing to where Wocky stood. "The bullet would've struck our victim square in the forehead. However! The entry wound… was in the right temple."

"Yes, we heard testimony on this yesterday," the Judge said. "At the time of the shooting, the witness was standing here," he motioned to the spot south of the victim. "Just before the gun was fired, he shouted. The victim turned his head to look… and was shot."

" _Objection!_ " I yelled. "But that testimony was proven to be a lie!" I reminded them. "Our egregious panty-snatcher, Mr. Stickler, did witness the crime… but he was standing to the north, next to the trash can where he tossed those panties!" I said, motioning to the spot. If. Mr. Stickler shouted from this location, the bullet couldn't hit his right temple!"

"Silly, silly attorney…" Alita cooed.

"Wh-what!?" I demanded.

"Do you remember what you had for breakfast that morning?"

"Frozen waffles." _Well, freezer burnt waffles. It's the same thing I have_ every _morning._

"I always have a glass of milk for breakfast," Trucy added.

"Wait, why does it matter!?" I demanded, realizing she managed to derail my thought process.

"What matters is one thing: The doctor was shot in his right temple. If that's the case, there can only be one explanation! The panties guy was mistaken."

 _Clay would have loved to hear_ that _nickname…_

" _Objection!_ " I yelled. "His location was proven! You can't write that off as him being 'mistaken'!" I countered.

" _Objection!_ " Gavin yelled. "Then why don't you show us, Herr Forehead?" he challenged.

"Show you… what?" I asked, still thrown off by the breakfast question.

"Must I explain everything?" he sighed. "Very well, let's recap: If the witness, panties guy, was standing to the north… then where was the shooter standing? From what location did the killer shoot the victim?" he asked.

"But wait!" the Judge gasped. "If the witness was standing there… how could anyone shoot the victim in the right temple?"

Gavin laughed. "I merely laid out the facts for us. It is up to the one possessing the shiny forehead to show us." I scowled at him. "If you can, that is," he added.

 _Wocky Kitaki was standing at the 'killer' mark…_ I thought, turning to the diagram. _Wesley Stickler at the 'witness' mark… and of course, Pal Meraktis was at the 'victim' mark…_

"Let's hear what the defense has to say. Where was the killer standing when they shot the victim?" the Judge asked. I studied the diagram hard, going over everything, until suddenly, I saw the truth. I turned to the Judge.

"As the facts stand now, we can't explain this crime… without contradicting ourselves at some point. But I know why. The real killer shot from an entirely different location then what's marked on the diagram!" I announced.

"What are you talking about!?" Alita demanded. "I don't see any other place…"

"Apparently, Mr. Wright does. Let's hear it. Where in the park did the killer shoot the victim from?" the Judge asked. I took a deep breath, readying my answer.

" _Objection!"_ Gavin suddenly yelled. "It's time to raise the roof! And the stakes."

"Eh?" I asked.

"Penalties are such frightening things; don't you think?" he asked. I didn't like where this was going. "But what if they were a bit more… terrifying! I propose if Herr Forehead gets this wrong… he be held in contempt of court for wasting our time.

"Wh-what?" the Judge gasped.

"Herr Forehead wishes to take us in a new direction?" Gavin smirked. "Then he must be ready for the challenges ahead!"

I closed my eyes for a moment in thought before nodding. "Challenge accepted." _My name's not 'Wright' for nothing!_

"A-are you sure, Apollo?" Trucy gasped. I ignored her, deep in thought, my hands busy shuffling my deck.

 _The key is the witness, Mr. Stickler's testimony! If we believe that, and we know where he stood… and the victim turned when he shouted… there's only one place the killer could have been!_ I opened my eyes, my hands falling still on my deck. "The killer shot the victim from… here!" I announced, pointing to the noodle stand. I then turned to Alita before anyone can answer.

"I believe we all ow a debt of gratitude… to Ms. Alita Tiala," I said.

"Wh-what do you mean?" she demanded.

"Thanks to you, we had a chance to review the crime… and this time, we were prepared. We know that Wesley Stickler was telling the truth! We should have listened to him from the beginning. Wesley Stickler was standing next to the trash can when he saw the two men. He shouted, just as he told us in his testimony. And the victim turned to look in his direction. A shot was fired! The victim was hit in the _right temple_ ," I said, laying it out for everyone.

"Oh no…" the Judge groaned, catching on. I smirked.

"Oh yes! Which direction was his right temple facing at that moment? That's right! Towards the noodle stand!" My words were greeted with an uproar from the audience—I mean, people of the gallery.

"Order! Order! Order!" the Judge yelled until all was quite again. "S-so you're saying… the killer was _inside the noodle stand!?_ " the Judge demanded.

" _Objection!_ " Gavin yelled. "Let's think about this a bit more, shall we? You say the killer was 'inside the noodle stand.' Which would mean the victim, Dr. Meraktis came to the park… wheeling his own murderer in the cart behind him!"

"This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" Alita snapped. "I'd think you'd notice if you were pulling someone along!"

" _Objection!_ " I yelled. "There's something we should worry about before that! Why was he pulling the noodle stand in the first place!?" I demanded, bringing up the one question everyone seemed content to ignore.

" _Objection!_ " Gavin countered. "Let's deal with our problems one at a time, shall we?" he said, proving my thought that everyone was ignoring that question. "Someone was hiding in the stand… we have not come this far to talk about 'possibilities.' Let's talk about 'proof,' baby. Show us evidence that proves someone was in that stand!"

 _Can I prove that…?_ I thought, going over everything in my head. "You want evidence that someone was in the stand…?" _Wait! That's it!_ "Well, I've got it right here!" I said.

"Intriguing! Let's see what you've got. Show us proof that someone was hiding in the noodle stand!"

"Of course. _Take that!_ " I yelled, pulling out the slippers and presenting them. Moments later, they appeared on screen. I motioned to the words on them. "'The Meraktis Clinic,'" I read. "And they're covered with paint. These slippers were found in a trash can near the crime scene," I explained.

"And…?" Gavin asked.

"A single slipper print was found at the scene… right next to the noodle stand!" I announced.

"Ack!" Alita gasped.

"Oh, and Ms. Tiala. Your _toe print_ was found in the left slipper!" I added, causing her to gasp again. "In other words… this is proof you were inside that noodle stand!" I concluded.

"No!" she gasped.

" _Objection!_ " Gavin yelled. "Yet there was only one slipper mark found at the scene… can this be called a footprint, in good faith?" he demanded.

" _Objection!_ " I countered. "Observe the diagram!" I pointed to the monitor as it appeared back on screen. "A park pathway runs right nect to the slipper mark! A slipper wouldn't leave a trace on a cobblestone path!"

" _Objection!_ " Gavin replied. "Yet you still cannot say this is a 'footprint,' ja?" he asked.

"Why not!?" I demanded.

"You have an impression left by a single slipper… what if it was on the stand and simply fell to the ground?" he asked.

" _Objection!_ " I yelled. "That's…" I was grasping at straw now. "That's just dumb!" I countered as seriously as I could. I could almost feel Dad face palming at my reply up in the gallery.

"One more thing. A noodle stand is typically cluttered with the tools of the noodle-making trade. There's no room for a person to ride in there!" Gavin pressed.

"Hmm… you have a point," the Judge said. "Could someone have hidden in that stand?

Suddenly, something we saw yesterday made sense. I smirked.

"I can prove one thing," I announced. "Someone did scheme to clear space in that stand!" I pulled a picture of one of Eldoon's bowls out from my court record. _"Take that!_ This is a noodle bowl from the stolen Eldoon's Noodles noodle stand," I explained.

"Yes, and what about it?" the Judge asked.

"We discovered a large quantity of these bowls yesterday… in the lobby of the Meraktis Clinic!" I announced. Alita's eyes widened in surprise.

"La large quantity of noodle bowls in the victim's clinic?" the Judge asked. I nodded.

"Mr. Eldoon was very clear about those bowls. They all went missing, along with his cart." I slammed my fists down on the bench. "Yet the bowls were removed! That night, _there was space_ inside that noodle stand! Space created at the Meraktis Clinic, no less. Right around the time that you were there, Ms. Alita Tiala!" I concluded.

"Stooooooop!" Alita yelled, grabbing her head. The wings on the front of her dress seemed to flap. "I won't listen to any more of these wild fantasies! No… not fantasies… they're worse lies than that spoiled brat's pickup lines!" she yelled.

"I would like to remind the witness of her current status," the Judge said. "This court does not consider you entirely innocent."

"Sho me an innocent… I'll show you a fairy tale," the woman spat. The Judge shook his head.

"In any case. The defense has, somehow, made its point. The witness had both a motive and an opportunity to kill Dr. Meraktis," the Judge conceded.

"More fairy tales!" the woman snapped. "This whole trial is a fairy tale!"

"Then please, pull us back down to reality, Ms. Tiala. I'm giving you one last chance to explain yourself."

 _This is it! Why was Dr. Meraktis pulling that stand that night…? And what was Alita Tiala doing inside it? Time to get to the bottom of this case!_

"That night, I went to ask Dr. Meraktis for the chart," Alita began. "I had no intention of ever letting that chart fall into the Kitaki Family's hands. But Dr. Meraktis didn't understand… For some reason, he thought the Kitakis had sent me! So I gave up and went home… all I did was talk to him!" My eyes narrowed as my bracelet squeeze. I immediately found her nervous habit, but first, I wanted to draw more information out of her.

"You knew about the botched operation… So you tried to get rid of the chart, to save yourself!" I asserted.

"I won't make excuses. And I did warn the good doctor. I gave him a chance. I told him that brat got his health check-up report. And that he was coming to settle the score," she explained.

"Hmm… I see. Very well. Mr. Wright, begin your cross-examination," the Judge said.

"Yes, Your Honor," I said.

"If the Kitakis had gotten that chart, it would have put a damper on your wedding plans, I'd say," I said.

"Not only that. If the Kitakis had gotten that chart… I'd probably be with Dr. Meraktis now, pulling that great noodle stand in the sky."

 _Um… well, that's one way to put it…_

"It seems our witness was in a fix as well," Gavin mused.

"Who would want to die pulling a noodle stand?" Alita muttered.

"When I die, it will be by disappearing mysteriously in the middle of a magic act!" Trucy said brightly from where she stood at my elbow.

"Could we be a little less morbid!? Please!?" I demanded, before realizing exactly what she said. "And no more disappearing acts from you!"

"Listen to your brother, Trucy!" Dad yelled from the gallery.

"Order! Order!" the Judge yelled. I groaned, mildly embarrassed. Realizing I wouldn't be able to get any more useful information from her, I just decided to move on.

"Could you repeat that last part of your testimony?" I asked.

"I gave up and went home… All I did was talk to him!" Alita said.

Instantly, my eyes snapped to her hand, where she reached up to scratch her neck as she said those magical words.

"'All I did was talk'…" I repeated. "And lie."

"Wh-what? Show me proof!" she demanded.

 _This is just too easy. A little slip in confidence, and the give it all away. And sometimes, the habits and tics are related somehow to whatever they're lying about!_ "The proof… is you, Ms. Tiala," I said. Her eyes widened. "'All I did was talk to him,' you claim… yet you can't hide your own nervous twitch when you say those words!"

"My 'twitch?' What are you talking about!?" she demanded, and I was surprised she didn't remember from earlier.

"You have a _habit_ of scratching the area of your neck around the edge of your scarf," I pointed out.

"Wha-! Wh-what!?" She demanded.

 _This is working better in court than I'd hoped! Her unconscious actions tell the truth she won't say. Habits and lies… two dots… connect the dots and find the truth!_

"D-don't look at me like that! I t-told you the tr-truth…" Alita snapped, scratching her neck again.

"It seems that when you recall what really happened in that office… you can't keep your hands off your neck, can you?" I said. She frowned, forcefully dropping her hand to her side.

"You can't hide behind your scarf, Ms. Tiala!" I pressed. "Something happened between you and the victim in the Meraktis Clinic office! And I've got proof that shows exactly what happened!" I announced, pulling a picture out of the lamp Trucy and I found in the office. Almost immediately, Alita's hand was back at her neck.

"Wh-what's that…?" she asked.

"You're touching your scarf again," I pointed out. She scowled at me, but I turned my attention to the picture. "There's something unusual about this lamp. The bulb is broken… and there's a red splotch on the cord."

"Eh…"

"Seeing how you hide your neck… I think I can come up with a plausible explanation for the lamp's state," I said.

"Well, spit it out! This talking in circles nonsense is killing me!" Alita snapped.

"Very well. The answer is very simple. Ms. Alita Tiala… please remove your scarf!" I demanded. Alita's eyes widened, and she let out a distressed noise.

" _Objection!_ " Gavin yelled. "This trial is to determine what happened in that park. Yet we seem to have drifted off target."

" _Objection!_ " I countered. "We'll find out soon enough if we're drifting… as soon as the witness removes her scarf!" I argued.

"I… I won't do it!" Alita cried. "This is insane! I'm a… an unrelated third party! You can't order me to remove my clothing!"

"Ms. Tiala, I'm afraid you've forgotten what's already been proven," the Judge said.

"What…?"

"You're hardly 'unrelated'… Please remove your scarf," he commanded.

"No… NOOO!" she cried, but after a moment, pulled the green fabric from her neck. Despite expecting it, even I had to gasp as the dark purple line encircling her throat.

"I knew it. So I was right, wasn't I, Ms. Alita Tiala!"

"Your neck… that isn't what I think it is, is it!?" the Judge gasped.

"Something did happen that night at the Meraktis Clinic! You needed to get that chart back, no matter what it took. Even if you had to steal your fiancé's pistol to do it!" I said.

"B-but wait! Looking at this lamp, and the witness's neck… it looks like the very opposite happened!" the Judge said.

"Exactly. The victim in the clinic that night… was this witness! Specifically, you tried to threaten Dr. Meraktis and he attacked you! That's what happened that night at the Meraktis Clinc!" I reasoned.

Alita sobbed, confirming it to be the truth.

"Order! Order! Order! Will someone please tell me what really happened!?" he demanded.

"I told you the truth already! I went to the clinic that night to warn Dr. Meraktis!" Alita cried.

"And what happened next!?" I demanded.

"He jumped at me, and knocked me to the floor! Then, he took that cord… Pal Meraktis was serious. Deadly serious. He really tried to strangle me. I… I must have blacked out," she said.

"So… you were the victim!" the Judge gasped.

"And the red splotch on the cord… was your lipstick," Gavin added.

"I… I didn't want to remember that night," Alita said softly, before looking up at me. "That's why I didn't bring it up. There… are you happy now?" she demanded.

"Eh…" I muttered.

"I was out cold, almost killed! And you claim I then snuck into that noodle stand… but how could I!?" she pressed.

"Ack!" I gasped.

"Well, one thing is clear. We now know what happened at the Meraktis Clinic. And it would seem that our victim was not entirely without blame himself!" The Judge concluded.

"I… I'm sorry. I get so nervous just thinking of it, it's hard to breath. I've told you everything. Can I go home now?" she pleaded.

"Hmm… you bear some responsibility for events that day, true. Yet, if you were also a victim… this court would owe you some sympathy. Well, Mr. Wright? I believe this clears up the remaining questions for Ms. Tiala," the Judge said.

 _When did this happen!? Suddenly, everyone's sympathizing with her!_ I thought, knowing it was partially my fault.

"I don't know what to think, Polly…" Trucy sighed. "I mean, is that it? Do we know everything we need to know about Ms. Tiala?"

"Very well!" the Judge decided. "This finished the cross-examination of this—"

" _Objection!"_ Gavin suddenly called, before _laughing._ "Not so fast. This party's just getting started!" he said. "Now, we rock!"

"W-what!?" I gasped.

"Those spikes on your head are softer than they look," Gavin taunted. "Or do you not have the stomach to go all the way?"

"Prosecutor Gavin?" the Judge asked.

"Pal Meraktis choked Alita Tiala… she fell unconscious. But what happened next?" the prosecutor questioned.

"He's right!" Trucy gasped. "There is more we don't know!"

"But… she was choked hard enough to leave that mark…" I mused. "She would have been out for a—" _But what if she was in that stand? Alita Tiala, half-dead… Dr. Meraktis pulling that stand… and a bullet fired from inside the noodle stand! That's it!_ "Ms. Alita Tiala, as you can see… we're not through with you just yet," I said, slamming my fists down on the bench in front of me. Alita narrowed her eyes.

"You really want to blame me for this murder, don't you? You, too, 'Prosecutor' Gavin," she demanded.

"Me?" Gavin asked. "Fräulein, I only wish to know the truth."

"Well, let's go back over what we've learned up till now," I proposed. "On the day of the murder, Wocky saw his check-up report… from which he learned about the bullet still inside him. So, he took a pistol from the Family stash… with the intent to give Dr. Meraktis some of 'his own medicine.'"

"And Ms. Tiala heard about this from Wocky. So she went to the Meraktis Clinic ahead of him! In order get rid of the chart with her signature!" Trucy continued, picking up where I left off.

"But then… something happened," I continued.

"Sounds like you've figured it all out," Alita scowled. "But remember, I was the victim! I was out cold."

"But, what about Dr. Meraktis?" I asked.

"That does seem to be the problem..." Gavin mused. "He had just strangled Alita Tiala, perhaps, he thought, to death. What did he do after his crime?"

"I was just knocked out! Not dead!" Alita retorted.

"From the state of his clinic, and the scene in the park… I think it's clear what the good doctor did next. Well, Herr Forehead? Care to guess?" Gavin suggested. I jolted slightly at that.

"Well, Mr. Wright?" the Judge asked. "What did Dr. Meraktis do!?"

 _Maybe he did think he killed Alita Tiala… do I have evidence to show what he did next?_

 _Wait! That's it!_

"As his next move, Dr. Meraktis… stole Guy Eldoon's noodle stand!" I announced.

"What, 'killing' me disturbed him that much?" Alita snorted. "So much he randomly stole a noodle stand!?"

"It wasn't so 'random.'" I countered. "Remember all the bowls in the clinic's foyer? Bowls that belonged inside that stand? I think it's pretty obvious, don't you? That stand was at the clinic. However, the question is why did he remove the bowls?" I asked.

"Maybe… because the stand was heavy?" Trucy asked. I smirked.

"Or he wanted to put something in the stand in their place…" I revealed.

"Ah!" the Judge gasped. "Wait, you don't mean…!"

"I do," I confirmed. "Dr. Meraktis did replace those bowls with something… your 'corpse,' Ms. Tiala!" I announced.

"M-my 'corpse'!?" she gasped.

"Dr. Meraktis panicked. He thought he'd killed you!" I told her.

"His next move would be to dispose of the body!"Gavin added.

"Th-that's crazy talk! You're all crazy!" Alita gasped.

" _Objection!_ " I yelled, cutting across her rant. "Then let's think about it… logically. The doctor had a place to dispose of you in mind… but on the way there… who should he run into but the defendant, Wocky Kitaki!"

" _Objection!_ " Gavin countered. "I question your 'logic,'" he said.

"What's this, Prosecutor Gavin?" the Judge asked.

"The park is a dead end. Why would he head in that direction to begin with?" the prosecutor asked.

"That's right!" Alita said, latching onto his reason. "He had no reason to go there! Oh, now I get it! It was a trick! That spoiled brat made him do it! He made the doctor steal the stand!" Alita reasoned, sounding a lot like Trucy yesterday.

" _Objection!_ " I yelled. "Tell me… why would someone go to a 'dead end?'" I asked. "Unless the park was his _destination!_ "

"Wh-what…?" Alita asked.

"Apparently, the defense has an idea. Tell us _where_ Dr. Meraktis was heading with the stand!" the Judge demanded. I smirked, crossing my arms.

"Is it really that hard to guess?" I asked, looking at the map of the park. "There's a river in the park. That's where Dr. Meraktis was headed with the cart." I slammed my fists on the bench. "I hardly need to explain why."

"A perfect place to dispose of a body," Gavin agreed.

"H-he was going to throw me into that river!?" Alita gasped.

"He didn't have many other options, Fräulein," Gavin said with a grin. Alita simply stared at him with dismayed eyes.

"I believe this clears up all of the remaining questions," I said. "The victim pulling the stand, and the defendant before him. And inside the stand… you, Ms. Alita Tiala," I said.

"Urk…" Alita muttered.

"And then, the denouement. Wesley Stickler, of panty-snatching fame, walks up. Seeing the two men, he shouts! In that instant… Bang!" I continued, getting caught up in the story. I even managed to get Trucy to jump slightly, a feat in itself.

"So… I shot him?" Alita asked.

"You were the only one who could have stolen Wocky's pistol. It had to be you!" I announced.

"Well, Ms. Tiala?" the Judge asked.

"Hmph. Nice work…" she said coldly.

"You mean, I'm right?" I asked.

"I mean you've done a fine job dreaming up a story… to get that spoiled brat off the hook!" Alita snapped.

"You're the one who's dream!" Trucy countered. "Polly's backed up everything he's said with facts! If you're so sure he's making it up, give us another reason! Why was Dr. Meraktis pulling that stand through the park!?" she demanded.

"Who knows? But there's one gaping hole in your logic. I think Mr. Gavin knows whereof I speak!" Alita replied.

"Whereof what!?" I demanded in disbelief.

"Is this true, Prosecutor Gavin?" the Judge asked. All eyes turned to the prosecutor, where he was snapping to a tune of his own.

"Must I always be the one to point out Herr Forehead's errors?" Gavin asked with a smirk. I scowled at that. "I believe the Fräulein speaks of… Herr Doktor's car."

"His car?" I asked.

"That's right! The Meraktis Clinic has that big garage!" Alita said.

"In which sat… a green sports car, was it?" the Judge asked.

"Why would he steal the stand in the first place!? If he wanted to carry a body, he would have used his car!" Alita pointed out.

"And so we find our victim without probably cause to steal that stand… and our defense without a case," Gavin added helpfully.

" _Objection!_ " Trucy yelled while I tried to figure out this new riddle. "Um… I have an idea! You know that green car? I bet it wouldn't run! It was broken!" she said.

"Ah, what an excellent counter-argument, Fräulein. Too bad you're quite wrong," Gavin said.

"Eh…?" both of us asked. I had actually thought Trucy's idea was pretty good.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten what happened to your father?" he asked the two of us.

"Daddy…?" Trucy asked.

"Dad?" I said at the same time, before realizing. "That's right! That night, the car that hit Dad… was that green sports car!"

"Oh, yes! I-I'd nearly forgotten about it!" the Judge admitted.

"Afterward, he drove it back to that garage. It ran fine," Gavin said.

"That's right. So why didn't he use his beloved sports car, hmm?" Alita demanded.

"Um…"

"Well, Mr. Wright? Why didn't Dr. Meraktis use his car to carry the 'body?'" the Judge demanded.

"Uh… umm…" I hummed, stalling for time while my brain stalled in thoughts.

"Is that a groan of surrender I hear?" Gavin asked with a smirk. I narrowed my eyes at him, and he shook his head. "Some advice: Now's a good time to review all you know. _Everything_ you've learned over the last two days," he said, staring me straight in the eye. I hesitated a moment, before gasping, realizing what he was talking about.

"Mr. Wright, this contradiction casts doubt on your entire case! This is truly your last chance! The defense will explain to us what happened that night!" the Judge demanded. I glanced once more at Gavin, who smiled, before looking at the Judge.

"That night, Dr. Meraktis couldn't use his car. It wouldn't run," I asserted.

"Hah!" Alita snapped. "Now you're making even less sense than usual!"

"Not according to my information, Ms. Tiala. Put one and one together, and the explanation is simple!" I replied.

"If it's so simple, perhaps you can show us some evidence? Show us proof why the car wouldn't run that night!" the Judge asked.

I nodded, presenting my evidence.

"Let's see now… Panties!? Again!?" the Judge gasped, taking in the sight of Trucy's magic panties. She gasped, searching her pockets, before rolling her eyes at me.

"I don't even know when you took those," she hissed, before grinning at the court. "All sorts of things come out of my panties! Even the truth."

"Another crime was committed the night of the murder," I said. "The theft of these panties! The latest in a string of similar thefts, actually."

"But that night, the snatcher was caught in the act!" Trucy said, picking up the story. "The noble, older brother of the victim chased the thief until he hid… in the Meraktis Clinic garage."

"Wh-whaaaat!?" Alita gasped.

"The snatcher hid the panties there before running… perhaps someone in this court remembers where he hid them?" I asked.

"Why… weren't they found in the car's exhaust pipe?" the Judge asked.

"Exactly," I said. "By the way, I learned something yesterday. A very important piece of information. And I learned it… from you, Prosecutor Gavin!" I announced. "After all, it was you who told me that an engine cannot run if the exhaust it clogged."

"My, how interesting," Alita hummed.

"While Ms. Tiala and the doctor were struggling… the panty-snatcher snuck into the Meraktis garage. From that time, until the time we found these… that car wouldn't start," I explained.

"Wh… what!?" Alita gasped.

"That's why Dr. Meraktis had to use the noodle stand!" Trucy added. "It was the next closest thing he could think of!"

"Well, Ms. Tiala?" I asked with a smirk. "This wraps your doubts up quite nicely, I think!"

"So it does…" Alita sighed, finally admitting defeat. "Funny. This isn't the way it was supposed to turn out. Oh well. Too bad," she said.

"There's still one mystery," the Judge suddenly said. "How did you manage to disappear from that stand?"

"In the silence after the shot, I heard the witness running," the woman said.

"I believe we heard as much from Wesley Stickler. He went to use a public phone to inform the police," Gavin reminded the court.

"Which is when I made my escape," Alita said.

"Which is when you left that slipper print!" I added.

"Dr. Meraktis didn't bother taking my slippers off. I threw them out after I stepped in that paint, though," Alita finished.

"That was your mistake," I said.

"No. My biggest mistake… was coming to you for help, Mr. Wright!" she said accusingly.

"Eh…" I muttered in confusion.

"I believed in you! You and your 'Anything Agency'… if anyone could get Wocky declared guilty it was you!" she snapped. I stayed quiet, trying to work that statement out in my head and make it make sense while Alita was lead from the court room.

"I believe we've reached a conclusion of sorts…" the Judge said. "Prosecutor Gavin. How is Ms. Alita Tiala doing?" he asked.

"She's confessed to everything. We're processing her arrest now," he replied easily.

"Prosecutor Gavin sure seems calm for someone who just lost…" Trucy mused.

"Yeah," I said. _He figured out the killer the entire time, and held my hand through that last part of the trial. As much as I REALLY hate to admit it… I owe him for this._

"Hmm?" Gavin hummed, noticing my eyes on him. "Something the matter, Herr Forehead?" he asked.

"Looks like it's time to announce a verdict…" the Judge said before I could answer. " _NOT GUILTY!_ Court is adjourned!"

…

"Great job, Polly!" Trucy said brightly, looping her arm through mine as we entered the Defendant Lobby. "You did it!"

"Yeah, we did, somehow…" I chuckled, thinking about a nap.

"Wocky's off the hook… free to become the gangster he's always wanted to be!" Trucy continued. "And he has you to thank!"

"Hey! Attorney-man! You're gonna pay for what you did to my Alita, homes!" Wocky yelled, bursting into the lobby. I stepped away from Trucy.

"Or blame, I guess," I heard her mutter.

"You give my Alita back!" the enraged boy yelled, grabbing my collar and pushing me into the wall. "Stupid pointy-head attorney with a death-wish!"

"Enough, Wocky!" a deep voice suddenly snapped from the doors Wocky just came through. I looked up.

"Ah! Mr. Kitaki…" I said, surprised at the relief flooding my system.

"It's high time you opened your eyes, Wocky," the man said in that commanding voice. Wocky dropped me and whirled on his father.

"What do you know, old man!" he yelled. "I think it's 'bout time you opened yours! Givin' up the life, tryin' to become some kinda businessman!" he spat.

"Don't talk about what you don't understand, Wocky!" Mr. Kitaki snapped.

"I'm afraid the guard is going to throw them both out," Trucy muttered, coming closer while I fixed my collar.

"If not in jail. Wouldn't that be a happy ending," I added sarcastically.

"Hey, maybe we can help them out! We know _why_ Mr. Kitaki needs to make so much money… maybe we should tell Wocky," Trucy said, before looking up. "Oh, Wocky?" she called. "Polly has something to tell you!"

"Huh? I do?" I muttered to her. _Way to put me on the spot…_

"Eh? Whazzat?" my former client demanded.

"Tell him the reason why, Polly!" Trucy muttered to me.

"Wocky… think about it. Think about your condition," I reminded him. His eyes widened slightly. "I talked with your mother, Little Plum, yesterday. They need money. _Clean_ money."

"She doesn't mean…" he turned to his father. "You aren't really… are you?" he asked.

"I searched the globe. And I found one. A doctor who can take that bullet out of you, Wocky. But it's an expensive procedure," Mr. Kitaki explained.

"M-man! B-but you got plenty of money already, don't you?" Wocky demanded.

"I won't use it."

"Wha-!?"

"It was the gangster life that did this to you, Wocky. I want to help you, and I want to do it clean," the big man sighed. "Please understand. Wocky…"

"D-Dad…" Wocky muttered, his eyes welling with tears. "M-man, I see how it is, old man! Always you looking out for… out for…"

"Wocky?" Trucy asked softly. Wocky wiped his face on his sleeve, before pointing at his father.

"Listen good, old man! One day… One day… I'm gonna take you out! Then we'll see who's the O.G.! You try to hide in your business suit, I'll find you! Stupid ol' geezer!" he yelled, before rushing out of the lobby.

"My! Wocky!" Trucy gasped, stepping forward as though to follow him.

"No… It's as it should be," Mr. Kitaki said, finally looking me straight in the eye. I was shocked to find a pair of puppy-dog, brown eyes under his bushy eyebrows.

"Mr. Kitaki!" I gasped in surprise. _I liked him more without the puppy dog eyes…_

"I'm glad… to have met you," he said. "I'm not so good with words… but I know a professional job when I see one. Thank you," he said, and I finally felt the weight of that target lift from my back.

"Who? Me? I don't think…"

"Someday… I'll bake you one of our latest… the Kitaki Lime Pie," he said.

 _He's opening a pie shop!?_

"So long," he muttered, turning away.

 _And he was gone…_

"Well, let's head back, Polly! To the Wright Anything Agency!" Trucy announced. I frowned slightly.

"What about our reward?" I asked.

"Oh yeah!" she said brightly. "Come one!" Trucy grabbed my wrist and dragged me forward. I was left with no other choice but to follow, laughing at her antics.

…

 **A/N:** And another completed chapter…

Dude, that part with Phoenix interrupting had be giggling the entire time I wrote that part. I hope you all enjoyed it too!

Apollo's a natural showman, by the way (he is in the game, I just enhanced it here).


	21. 18: Interlude

**A/N:** Another chapter, yay! This one is a non-case chapter, meaning of my original creation.

Here we go!

…

Chapter 18: Interlude

 _June_

After the Kitaki case, I had a lot of free time. Dad quickly healed from his sprained ankle (it was a minor sprain), and Trucy continued her tricks at the Wonder Bar. Now that I knew about Stickler, I had a quick talk with Mr. Winks, who barred the college student from the bar ("he never bough' any'ing anyways. And he always a'e all my free samples!") and I always went to meet Trucy and walk her home.

I also continued my fruitless investigation into Kristoph Gavin. Now that I was a fully-fledge lawyer, I had access to the reading room in the courthouse, so I used it often.

It was walking home from there, that Clay spotted me.

"Apollo!" he called from across the street, running over to me. "I was just about to call you!" he said. I smiled.

"Hey Clay. What's up?" I asked as we walked. He slung an arm around me.

"Last time you dated was college," he said.

"Uh, yeah? So? I just graduated like… last month," I reminded him.

"Yeah, but still!" Clay pressed. "So, I set us up for a double date."

"Wait, what!?" I gasped.

"Clay, remember the last double date we went on. My girlfriend cheated on me, and I nearly got my face beat in," I reminded him.

"It'll be different this time," Clay promised with a grin. "Please, Polly?" he pleaded. I sighed.

"I don't really have a choice, do I?" I asked.

"Nope! Come to my house around five on Saturday, okay?"

"Fine," I groaned.

…

The girls we picked up at six on Saturday were sisters: Lisa and Brenda. I sat in the back with my date, Brenda, while Lisa sat in the passenger seat, next to Clay. Those two hit it off immediately.

"So, what do you do for a living, Brenda?" I asked.

"I'm a hair dresser," she said, eying my spikes. I reached up self-consciously, flattening them in a nervous way. "You?"

"A lawyer," I said. Her eyes lit up.

"Really? Does that mean you make a lot of money?" she asked.

"Er…" I muttered thinking about the two cases I had under my belt. The first was Dad who, obviously, didn't pay me, and the second was Wocky Kitaki. I got a nice fee for that, but most of that went towards an advance payment on rent and towards my student loans. "Kinda," I finally said.

"Oh," Brenda said, leaning back against her seat again in an uninterested way.

 _Well, okay then…_ I thought, glancing up at the review mirror. Clay caught my eye in the reflection and shrugged slightly.

My conversation with Brenda went much the same way until we reached the restaurant. Clay walked in, holding hands with Lisa, while Brenda walked next to me, her arms crossed. I pulled out a chair for her, but she simply rolled her eyes and took a different seat.

 _Well, this is going well…_ I thought. Clay caught my eye again and gave me an apologetic look, while the girls silently communicated through looks. Finally, the waitress came and got our orders, and Clay and Lisa went back to talking. Brenda pulled out her cell.

"You didn't really want to come, did you?" I asked her softly, leaning in close. She looked up.

"What was your first clue?"

"The very uninterested way you're acting," I said. She shrugged.

"My sister dragged me into this. I didn't really have much of a choice," she said.

"Well, join the club," I replied. She simply huffed, and rolled my eyes. "Whatever," I muttered, standing.

"Apollo?" Clay asked, looking up. I smiled, motioning in the direction of the bar.

"Just getting a drink," I said, before walking away.

…

At the bar was the last person I expected to run into.

"Ema?" I asked, sitting next to the detective. She jumped and looked up, seeming a little startled.

"Apollo!? Hey," she said. I noticed a file in her lap, with a comic hidden inside, as though she was trying to hide the fact that she was reading it.

"Hey, is that a vintage _Galaxy Wars_ comic?" I asked, pointing to it. She looked between it and me, blushing.

"Yeah. It's uh… um… evidence," she said. I smiled.

"That's a shame. The police probably won't take proper care of it," I said. I knew my geek was showing, but I also could tell Ema was lying about it being evidence.

Hell, one didn't even need my Perceive ability to see that.

"You like these things?" Ema asked. I nodded, ordering a Rum and Coke, before turning to her.

"Yeah. They're pretty interesting, and they add to the story more than the movies," I admitted, before chuckling. "I guess you can say I'm a bit of a Sci-fi geek…"

"A magician who's into Science Fiction?" Ema asked before laughing. I chuckled as well.

"Who is also a Lawyer," I said, taking a sip of my drink as it was placed in front of me. "I'm quite interesting, aren't I?"

"You can say that again!" Ema laughed at me, and I joined in. She then shook her head with a smile.

"You're not here alone, are you?" she asked.

"Ah. No. I was here on a double date Clay forced me on…" I admitted.

"Oh," Ema muttered. "Where's the lucky girl?"

"Back at the table on her phone. She's not interested. Didn't even come willingly," I explained.

"Wow," she said. "So you're hiding over here for a bit?" she asked.

"Maybe," I smiled. "So, is _Galaxy Wars_ the only one you read, or…?" I trailed off, returning back to the comic book. A smile broke across her face.

"I read a lot, actually. And I watch the shows. My main obsession right now is the newest season of _Professor Who_ ," she admitted.

"Really!?" I gasped. "Same here! Overall though, who's your favorite Professor?"

"The tenth one, duh!"

"Eh, really?"

Ema and I continued to talk about our favorite Sci-Fi shows for a while, before moving onto other things, such the craziness surrounding the Kitaki case, and her dreams of becoming a Forensic Detective. Finally, she looked at me.

"Hey, Apollo? Why'd you become a lawyer?" she suddenly asked.

"Huh?"

"Was there any specific reason?"

"Well…" I thought over everything for a moment before nodding.

"Sorta, though I do also just really enjoy law," I admitted. Ema smiled warmly, leaning closer.

"What's the reason though?" she asked. I laughed.

"Well, one is to save Dad," I admitted. She pulled back slightly, surprised by that.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Dad… is amazing. He saved so many people… myself included. After Zak disappeared… well, it was a pretty dark time for me," I said. "But… it was a pretty dark time for Dad too. One he's still going through. I _know_ he didn't know that evidence was forged, and I plan to prove it," I explained.

"Wow…" Ema sniffled. I immediately realized the alcohol was making her emotional. "That's so great…"

"Heh, thanks…" I muttered, not telling her the second reason.

That I wanted to find my mother.

"I want to save Mr. Wright too. He saved me as well, you know," Ema admitted.

"Ah. The reason you came back to the States," I said, remembering. She nodded.

"Yep." She smiled at me, taking another sip from her drink. I sipped on my own Coke and Rum. I looked over at her, and she smiled back, making my stomach do a sudden back flip.

"Apollo, here you are!" Clay's voice suddenly said from behind. I spun the stool around, and the world tilted slightly.

"Whoa!" I said, grabbing the bar and laughing at myself. Ema laughed as well, while Clay rose an eyebrow. The girls stood behind him.

"How many drinks did you have, dude?" Clay asked.

"Uh…" I stalled, looking back at my now empty glass.

"Three," the bartender said as he picked up the glass. "Do you want another?" he asked.

"No, I'm going to get him home before he goes from tipsy to full on drunk," Clay said, coming over to help me gain my balance. Ema laughed harder from where she still sat, and Clay looked up.

"Oh, hey, Ema. Uh… do you need a ride home?" he offered, noticing the drink in front of her.

"Hrm… probably," she admitted, putting her file in her bag. She followed me, Clay, and the two girls out, back to the car. Clay, who didn't drink at all, dropped Lisa and Brenda off first, then Ema.

"G'night, Apollo," she said with a warm smile. I smiled warmly back.

"Good night, Ema," I replied.

We waited for her to reach the door to her apartment building, before Clay pulled away.

"So, not interested in Brenda?" he asked.

"Nope. She wasn't in me either, though," I said with a shrug.

"Figures."

"You and Lisa though?" I asked.

"Eh, I don't know. She's… _clingy_ ," Clay complained. I snorted, laughing at him, and Clay laughed as well.

"Well, you and Ema?" Clay asked.

"Uh… well…"

"I saw how cozy you two were together, dude!" Clay laughed. "You like her, don't you?"

"Yes? No? I don't know…" I sighed. Clay snickered for a moment, before looking at me.

"Well, I can tell she likes you. I am _totally_ setting you two up!" he announced.

"Wait, what?" I gasped.

"Just trust me, okay?"

"But I… I don't know, Clay," I said. Clay just grinned at me as he pulled to a stop in front of my apartment building.

"Just trust me," he said with a wink.

…

 **A/N:** Yes, Apollo and Ema did totally just get half-drunk together. It had to be done. It just had to be!


	22. 19: Truce

**A/N:** Hi guys! I'm back with another chapter! This one is kind of important in my opinion, because it sets up Turnabout Serenade, and reconciles one of my favorite friendships (JUST FRIENDSHIP) from the series, even if Clay and Apollo's friendship is quickly taking over that spot…

ANYWAYS! Here we go!

…

Chapter 19: Truce

 _July_

The bookshelves of the Courthouse Library towered over me as I crouched over a table near the back of the room. Spread out on the table in front of me were files from Kristoph Gavin's cases before his incarceration.

Despite being half-drunk that night two weeks ago when I was talking to Ema, I realized that what I said was true: I want to save Dad. I want to prove that he was set up, because I truly believe that's what happened.

And that thought lead me to remember an exchange Dad and Mr. Gavin had during the Shadi Smith trial…

…

 _"You were planning this all along, weren't you, Wright? Just because you wanted to drag me into your little murder trial…"_

 _"The only thing I want… is the truth. As I did back then… and now."_

 _"Is… this your idea of revenge, Phoenix Wright?"_

 _"Revenge…?"_

 _"Revenge for the events that took away your attorney's badge seven years ago!"_

…

Kristoph Gavin was a lot more connected to that case then at first glance. It was also a little odd, I thought, that Gavin was the only one to vote against the decision to take away Dad's badge. But the only investigating I could do into him, right now, was his past cases.

They didn't really tell me much I didn't already know: he was considered the 'Coolest Defense in the West' for his unflusterable demeanor and skill in court. But that's about all.

With a sigh, I stood, replacing the files, and heading towards the door.

"Herr Forehead. Fancy meeting you here," an annoyingly familiar voice said, and suddenly Klavier Gavin was standing in front of me, his hands on his hips as he leaned in a little too close. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Prosecutor Gavin," I said curtly, going to step around him.

"Ah, wait, please?" he asked, catching my shoulder. I looked over at him. "I would just like to talk, ja?"

"I'm sorry, Prosecutor Gavin, but I'm busy, and…" I trailed off, surprised by the serious look Gavin was giving me.

"Please? It won't take much of your time," he said. I sighed.

"Alright," I finally relented, allowing the man to lead me to the lunchroom in the courthouse. After getting drinks (coffee for him, soda for myself), we sat down.

"So, what is this about?"

"First, I would like to apologize for last month," Gavin started, throwing me off guard.

"Apologize?" I asked.

"Ja. I… made some comments that were out of line. About your father…" he said. I looked down at my Coke, staying quite. "I also… realize that I was the prosecutor on the case in which Zak Gramarye disappeared and Phoenix Wright lost his badge, which lead to Herr Wright adopting you. I can imagine that hasn't made life easy…"

"What, Dad adopting us?" I asked sharply.

"Nein, of course not!" he said quickly. "That your father disappeared and the man who adopted you was jobless," he said. I hesitated, before sighing.

"I… sorry. I jumped the gun," I sighed. "And… for the record, Zak wasn't my biological father. He was my step-dad," I said. Gavin nodded. "Life was hard, to be honest. Me and Trucy had to work too, just for the three of us to make ends-meet. But… I can't say it was necessarily bad," I explained. He nodded again. "And, I understand that you were just doing your job as a prosecutor and working with the information you had on hand." I looked up at him, surprised at myself. For years, I held onto this anger at him. I hated him for his involvement in Dad's disbarment and Zak's disappearance. I _despised_ him.

But… he helped me bring Alita Tiala to justice. He _did his job_ in that case seven years ago, and I honestly don't think Dad hates him anymore. After all, Dad himself bought down lawyers who presented false evidence and were corrupt. I would have done the same myself in his or Gavin's shoes.

Perhaps… It was time to let go of this grudge.

"I forgive you," I said simply. Klavier Gavin smiled brightly at that.

"I'm glad, Herr Forehead. I can tell you fight for the truth, and I would hate for us to be real enemies," he said with a smile. I chuckled softly.

"You're right, I guess," I agreed.

"I do have a favor to ask of you, though," Gavin said, leaning forward on the table.

"Uh… what is it?" I asked.

"Well, I have a concert coming up later this month, and Lamiroir—have you ever heard of her?" Gavin cut himself off to ask. I nodded.

"Yeah, Trucy uses her music in her magic act," I said. I secretly loved Lamiroir's music. It was soothing, bringing up happy, warmer memories from my past, when Mom was still around.

"Well, Lamiroir will be part of the concert. And, I have this idea, of two stages, one at the front, one at the back. I want her to disappear from the front stage, and her cloak to fly across the venue, to the second stage, and her to appear as it gets there," Gavin explained. I leaned back, putting a finger to my forehead. "I know you used to be Apollo Gramarye, part of Troupe Gramarye, and that you actually performed with them on stage. I was hoping…"

"That I could help you with that bit of complicated magic?" I finished. The man nodded with a large grin, his blue eyes bright with this vision. I closed my eyes, envisioning the trick he described. The logistics of it would be quite complicated, and it would take a lot of set up beforehand.

"I… I don't know, Mr. Gavin. I'm more… sleight of hand then big stage magic…" I said, looking up at him. He looked crushed.

"Please, Herr Forehead? I want this to be a truly magical experience for my fans, ja? Er… no pun intended," he added. I chuckled slightly at that.

"I understand that. I just… that's a lot of planning and beforehand set up. Plus, we'd have to let a _lot_ of people know the trick, which means we'd need to put it in their contracts not to tell anyone. And, despite a contract, someone could always let slip what happened," I explained, approaching this show much how I remember Grandfather doing it. "Besides, if the trick goes wrong, it might ruin your concert…"

"Achtung, baby!" Gavin suddenly announced, causing me to jump. "If anyone can do it, Herr Forehead, it's you! After all, you have the mind for it, ja? Who else would have thought of the murderer being in the Noodle stand, or a secret passage behind a cupboard?"

"Er…"

"Besides, you trained with _the best_ magicians in the history of stage magic," the man continued. "Beyond that, you _are one of them!_ You're a _Gramarye!_ I believe you could do this and pull it off smoothly," he said. I stared up at him, surprised at the passion in his voice, and at his words. I then smiled.

"You know what? You're right. I can," I said, my smile growing. "But it's a little too much for just one magician. If you can get a hold of someone who's dropped off the radar for the last seven years, we'll be in business," I said with a grin, leaning forward.

"Oh? Who's that?" he asked.

"Valant Gramarye."

…

A week later, I walked into the Sunshine Stadium, dressed in my magician outfit of the red cloak and top-hat. Dad, Clay, and Trucy thought that if I was going to create a magic trick, I should dress the part… even if it was a little uncomfortable for me.

Gavin met me back stage.

"Wow, Herr Forehead. This is quite… different… from what you normally wear. I could almost believe you and Fräulein Wright were siblings," he joked. I smiled slightly, giving a shrug.

"Well, she's the one going into magic, not me," I said, walking alongside him. _And she got REEEAAALLY jealous when she heard what I was going to do…_

"That's right," Gavin mused, before shrugging, opening a door for me. "Our second magician has arrived," he said into the room. I looked up, noticing a room full of people, before seeing one and gasping, darting forward.

"Uncle Valant!" I called, throwing my arms around the man. He laughed warmly, hugging me back.

"Hello, Apollo!" he said, and for a moment, I was thrown back in time to when this man would teach me little card ticks. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, taking in his familiar warmth.

Maybe, doing this for Gavin wouldn't be such a bad thing after all…

…

 **A/N:** And there we have it! In case you can't tell, this changes Turnabout Serenade quite a bit from the game's version.

Well, that's all for today! The next chapters are going to be long again, haha.


	23. 20: The Familiar

**A/N:** Sorry for how long this took. I wanted to update it the night I updated the last chapter, but my internet has been suckish at best… (which means online school has been HARD, let alone using a walkthrough to write this).

BUT, this chapter is demanding to be written. I hope you all enjoy the beginning as much as I do (I was sitting at work, giggling the entire time I thought about it).

 **Review Reply to Gamergirl:** It's so much fun to change it, though I had to actually write a full outline for this case! Valant is going to be a lot of fun, though we'll see him more in my 'slice of live' chapters and the last case. I'm glad you enjoy those chapters, by the way! They're nice little breaks from the cases, and I like writing my original stuff (as original as it can be with fanfiction, at least). I hope you enjoy how I twisted this case, hehe.

Now, ONWARD!

(Yes, I referenced a line from Apollo from one of the SoJ trailers as the chapter title. It just…. fits.)

…

Chapter 20: The Familiar

 _July_

"Hey, Clay…" I said, flopping down on a bench near him. We had decided to meet at the park today to go jogging. He was really trying to get me to workout with him, and since I had a favor to ask him, I decided I should today.

"Hey, Polly," Clay said with a grin, stretching his legs. "You should stretch so you don't cramp up."

"Fine," I said with and over-dramatic sigh. He laughed at me, but I sat on the ground across from him, copying his movements.

"So, you've been busy," Clay commented. I nodded.

"This magic trick that I've been working on is, uh, pretty big," I admitted. "Speaking of that… will you be busy July seventh?" I asked.

"Nope. Why?"

"Well, I have concert tickets."

"What!? What band?" Clay asked excitedly. I coughed slightly.

"The Gavinners…" I muttered.

"Wait. What?"

"Yeah. That magic trick is actually for Gavin's show…" I said.

"How'd you get roped into that?" Clay laughed.

"Well, he apologized for everything, then asked. And… he might have inadvertently played on a few of my childhood insecurities… heh," I said. "And he gave me two tickets for Trucy and Dad, but Dad's busy."

"So… you're inviting me?" Clay asked.

"Yeah. I mean, I know you're not really a fan of the Gavinners, but… Trucy can't go alone. Neither Dad nor I want her to, and she really wants to go. And… she's already kinda mad that I'm the one helping out with the magic trick," I said, stretching forward and touching my toes.

"Makes sense," Clay mused. "After all, she's the one who wants to be a magician. Not you."

"Nah, it's a matter of experience. I've performed on a big stage at the professional level. Trucy hasn't," I said. Clay looked up at me with a weird look before shrugging.

"Well… I guess I'll go. For Trucy," he said.

…

"Alright, do you think you have that?" I asked Lamiroir. It was the day before the performance, and we were going over her part in the magic trick. She looked towards her manager, a large man by the name of Romein LeTouse, who spoke quickly in Borginian, explaining the magic trick to her. She smiled once he finished, looked back at me, and nodded. I smiled warmly back, searching her eyes.

The blue looked… familiar.

Gavin walked in, and I quickly folded the map of the stage area I had out, making sure he didn't see it. Everyone in the band and on staff were on a strictly 'need to know' basis with this trick.

"How's practice going?" I asked, standing. Lamiroir and LeTouse stood as well.

"Good. I think this'll be our best show yet!" Gavin said with a grin. I chuckled.

"Good," I said.

"Ja, we—" Gavin suddenly cut off, looking over my shoulder towards a curtained off partition.

"Er, Apollo? I don't think this is going to work," Uncle Valant suddenly said from behind. I turned.

"What's not-!" I cut off when seeing him, covering my mouth. Dressed as Lamiroir, his excessive bulk made him look ridiculous. My shoulders began to shake, and it took everything in my being to not start laughing.

"I think I have to agree, Mr. Gramarye," LeTouse added, his voice full of amusement.

"Er… do I want to know?" Gavin asked. I took a deep breath, swallowing my laughter, and looked over at him.

"The fastest we can get Lamiroir from one stage to another is two minutes," I said. "So, we need someone to impersonate her on stage. Uncle Valant thought it should be him, but…" I trailed off, glancing at the man. Gavin snickered, before stepping back, looking at me curiously.

"Why not you, Herr Forehead?" he asked.

"Wait, what?" I demanded, surprised at the sudden turn of events.

"Yes! That's perfect!" Uncle Valant suddenly said. "After all, you're about the same height as Lamiroir. And build. Wearing the cloak, no one would be able to tell the difference.

"Why not one of the _female_ stage hands?" I demanded.

"Because none of them could disappear quite like a Gramarye. Common, let's have you try on the costume!" he said, dragging me behind the curtained off partition. I could hear the other's laughing, and my face burned with heat.

…

"And this is why I _hate_ performing on stage!" I growled as the makeup artist applied liberal amounts of foundation and blue eyeshadow to me. Yesterday, it was decided I would make the perfect Lamiroir.

Today, I was dressed in a long, flowing white dress, the midnight blue cloak over my shoulders. As the makeup artist moved away, the wardrobe man came over.

"Here. These are kind of necessary," he said, suddenly pulling the front of the dress away from my chest and stuffing something inside.

"H-hey!" I complained, blushing slightly.

"Stop moving so much, Mr. Wright. We need to get the outfit perfect," the man said, shaping the padding until he deemed it perfect. As a final touch, he placed a wig on my head, and turned me towards the mirror.

Staring back at me was Lamiroir, but with brown eyes instead of blue. Thankfully, from a distance, that wouldn't be noticeable.

Once they were sure I was perfect, and it was time for me and Lamiroir to make the swap, I suddenly found myself on stage next to Gavin. Remembering all of the videos I'd seen of Lamiroir performing, I clasped my hands in front of my chest, getting into character.

" _Sugar, Sugar… O that night, in your embrace._

 _When you stole away the keys,_

 _My heart held on to so tight."_ I slowly rose my hands to the sides, before letting them drop. The tower in the center of the stage began to rise, with just myself and Gavin on it. He continued to play the slow song on his guitar while Lamiroir sang from her hidden position.

" _Pleasure…_ _But a fleeting melody."_ I rose my left hand, holding it before me. " _It wraps itself around me."_ I rose my hands to the air, looking up. " _And now through the air I fly._ "

Gavin moved over, blocking the audience's view of me while he pulled the cloak off my head. I thought I smelled smoke, but ignored it as he whipped the cloak up. I dropped to the floor, quickly sliding towards the back, where a ladder awaited me (you know how hard it is to army crawl backwards in a dress!?)

" _Woh… woh…_ " I peeked over the edge of the tower, knowing I was invisible to the audience, and watched the cloak flow across the venue over the heads of the audience.

" _Burning on in my heart. Fire. Burn my love away—"_ My attention was suddenly bought to Gavin, who's guitar began to smoke. He gasped, yanking his hand away from it, before struggling to get it off, falling backwards in the process.

Going by the reaction from the crowd, I knew the trick was highly successful. My attention was still on Gavin, however, who had managed to get the guitar off and was beating it out. He caught my eye and shook his head, and I nodded, quickly climbing down and disappearing back stage. It was clear, from Gavin's reaction, that the guitar catching fire hadn't been part of the show. I should know, anyways. Uncle Valant and I were the lead men on the effects for this show.

I quickly made it to my dressing room and changed out of the dress and into my magician's outfit with a sigh of relief. Uncle Valant had talked me into the cloak and hat, as a 'symbol of my position.'

I stepped out of my dressing room.

"Wow, wasn't Lamiroir amazing!" a familiar voice said off to my left, accompanied by a sniffle. "I even cried a little!"

"I was surprised Prosecutor Gavin actually burned his guitar," Clay said.

"Yeah!" Trucy said brightly. "That even surprised me, and I'm a magician! What a production!"

"What a destruction," I said, walking over. "Gavin wasn't expecting it."

"Polly! That trick was amazing! How did you do it!?" Trucy demanded. I grinned, shaking my head.

"Come on, Trucy, you know I can't tell you that!" I countered.

"Aw…"

"Bro, are you wearing makeup?" Clay suddenly asked.

"Huh?" I reached up, brushing my fingers against my cheek. A little bit of foundation came off, showing on my gloved fingertips. "Uh, it's just stage makeup," I said.

"Are you going on stage?" Clay asked.

"That blue eyeshadow isn't," Trucy suddenly said, before smirking. "It brings out your eyes though," she added.

"Argh!" I groaned, grabbing my cloak and scrubbing my face with the inside of it.

"Seriously, why were you wearing that?" Clay asked.

"No reason. Come on, I'm sure you guys came back here to see the Gavinners," I said, leading them to the band's dressing room.

"What the heck was that!? I was never consulted about it!" Gavin stormed, before looking up. "Apollo Wright! Did you know about that stunt!? Were you the one who tried to torch me!?" he demanded. I took half a step back, surprised at the intensity and lack of nickname.

"Of course not. Neither of us did," I said, talking about Uncle Valant – who was absent – as well.

"'The Guitar's Serenade' is ruined! Ruined!" he cried. Trucy, Clay, and I glanced at each other, unsure of what to say to that. Then Trucy shrugged and looked at the rock singer.

"You mean, the guitar… that wasn't part of the act?" she asked.

"Part of the act!? Who'd burn up a guitar on purpose!?" Gavin vented.

"But, it worked really well with the lyrics just then… 'burning on in my heart. Fire. Burn my love away. All away,'" she quoted, bringing Gavin up short, his eyes a little wide.

"Wait, you think the audience thought it was…?" he trailed off. Clay nodded.

"I did, to be honest," he answered truthfully.

 _Thank goodness. He's having a bad day enough as is…_ I thought, crossing my arms.

"A-anyway, that guitar was the Ferrari of guitars! All the speed, all the sound… and all the price. If I burned one of those at every show, I'd go broke!" Gavin complained.

"Unusually frugal for a rock band," I muttered.

"Try saying that to Mr. Gavin," Trucy replied while Clay snickered.

"Achtung! Today's been one disaster after another… my hog won't run, my guitar case's broken…" he sighed.

"Daddy told me there'd be days like these," Trucy said, while I nodded, and we sat in silence for a moment, before Trucy perked up.

"W-wasn't Lamiroir's song incredible!?" she asked. "You worked on it too, right, Mr. Gavin?"

"Ah, yes, thanks," Gavin said. "It was a collaboration. I wrote the lyrics, and she wrote the melody," he explained.

"You know… I was surprised she could sing in English," Clay mused.

"She practiced. A lot," I said.

"Ah, here," Gavin suddenly said, coming over and handing something to Trucy. She took it, her eyes bright.

"What is it!?" she asked.

"A lyrics sheet. It's yours," Gavin said with a small smile. "Signed by myself and Lamiroir."

"Yippee! Thanks so much!" she said brightly. I shook my head with a small smile, and Gavin chuckled.

"Well, almost time for the third act of the night," he said.

"Oh! There's more?" Trucy gasped excitedly.

"Yes!" Gavin said brightly, and I could tell Trucy's excitement was starting to pull him out of his funk. I smiled at that.

Trucy was just magical like that.

"Lamiroir's part is done. Now it's time for us to drop our groove again, ja? Hope you're ready to catch it," Gavin continued.

"Woo hoo!" Trucy cheered. "Ready, Clay?" she asked.

"Uh… I think I'll pass," he said.

"Eh…?" Trucy asked.

"I liked Lamiroir's part, but the rest is kinda… loud," Clay said. I snorted at that.

"Oh, Clay, you're getting old!" Trucy said.

"H-hey!" Clay complained.

 _Ack! Does twenty-two qualify as 'old' to a fifteen-year-old!?_ I thought in a panic.

"Well, I'm going!" Trucy said.

"Let the old folks rest backstage, ja? Time to rock," Gavin grinned. I got the feeling he was talking about me too, and huffed.

"I don't got a choice, remember!?" I called after him. He just waved over his shoulder, and I gave vent to another sigh.

"Let's go to the hall," I said to Clay, who chuckled.

"Alright."

Standing in the hall, looking around and munching her way through a bag of Snackroos, was none other than Detective Ema Sky.

"Hey, it's you! The detective!" Clay said brightly. Ema turned a sour look on him. "Er…"

"Ema, I didn't know you were here. What are you doing here?" I asked.

"…Isn't it obvious? I'm snacking. You think I want to be here!? Me, in charge of security in this pit!?" she demanded.

"Security…? Did something happen?" I asked, suddenly worried for Trucy.

"There's no knowing with that Glimmerous fop," she seethed. "Apparently, he's all upset because something was stolen. He wanted security back here during the concert. Where does he get off acting like he's some big rock star?" she demanded.

… _He is a big rock star_ , I reminded her silently.

"Hey! You listening to me!?"

"So… where's this door here lead to?" Clay suddenly asked, pointing to a door next to the one that lead to the Gavinner's dressing room.

"That one? That's Lamiroir's dressing room. Don't even think of going in there unless you want a piece of Snackoo in your face!" Ema replied threateningly. Clay and I glanced at each other.

 _Why is she so sour…?_

Just then, the earpiece I was to wear at all times, crackled to life. " _Apollo, can you come back stage for a minute? We need your help with one of the effects,"_ one of the stage hands called. I bought my hand up to my ear, pressing the button to reply,

"Sure thing. I'll be there in a minute," I said, before dropping my hand and looking at Clay and Ema. "Gotta go. I'll see you after the show, okay, Clay?" I said.

"Sure thing," he replied as I jogged off.

…

Not too long after I arrived backstage to help with one of the effect machines, something happened. A flurry of activity from the hallway sounded through the ear piece, and suddenly, there was police presence back stage. One of them walked over to the soundboard.

"Shut it down," he commanded the man working it.

"Um… okay," the man hesitated for only a minute before spotting the police badge and doing as he was told. As he threw the switch, the music cut off. A large groan swelled from the crowd.

" _What the heck is going on NOW!?"_ Gavin demanded through the earpieces. I reached up and pressed the button to reply.

"The police are back here. They demanded the sound be shut down. I think something is wrong," I said. A few minutes later, the entire band was back stage. Most of the stage hands were shown out. I managed to be allowed to stay by showing my Attorney's badge.

Gavin looked at the cop in charge.

"Well, what's wrong?"

"We have to cancel the show, Mr. Gavin. A man's been shot in Lamiroir's dressing room."

…

Gavin, Crescend (Gavinner's second guitarist and a detective of international affairs), and I found Ema, Clay, and Trucy in the backstage hallway.

"The venue's locked down. We took names and addresses before letting the crowd go," Crescend was saying as we walked over.

"Good work, Daryan," Gavin said. I rushed over to Trucy, hugging her.

"Are you okay?" I demanded.

"Yeah. I got worried when they said something was going on back here, though. I thought maybe you were hurt!" she said, hugging me back just as tight. I looked up at Clay, who looked a little pale. He smiled weakly at me, and I dragged him into the hug.

"I thought it was Clay, to be honest," I admitted. "I knew I left him back here…" I said. The three of us finally pulled apart.

"One request I must make…" Gavin said, coming over to us. I noticed Crescend was gone. "Tell no one, on staff or otherwise, anything of this," he said.

"Ooh, a gag order!" Trucy said brightly.

"No word gets out, other than that Mr. LeTouse is dead. No word of the cause of death, or the murder," he said.

"Tell no one… Not even Lamiroir?" I asked, confused at this turn of events.

"Not even her. We must keep everything under wraps. Oh, one other thing. I'll need you signatures on this," he said, holding a paper to us. I took it first, scanning a critical eye over it.

"Hmm… an 'investigation request'?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Why just us?" Trucy asked.

"You three are civilians. It's standard procedure," he explained. I shrugged, realizing he was right, and signed it, passing it first to Clay, then Trucy. We then handed it back.

"Right, well, get started with the investigation!" Gavin said brightly.

"I'm on it already!" Ema snapped.

"Ah, and one tip for you," Gavin added softly to me.

"Huh?"

"Try not to get in the Fräulein Detective's way. She's in a foul mood today," he said. I quirked an eyebrow at him.

 _Gee, I wonder why?_

Just then, an officer came over to us.

"The three of you are witnesses," he said.

"And you need to question us?" I asked, to which he nodded. One officer took Trucy, the other took Clay, and the first stayed with me. I couldn't give him much information though, other than the fact that apparently, just moments before the murder, I had been called to behind stage to help with one of the effect machines. This was collaborated by the other members of the staff.

Trucy was done with her questioning before even me, but Clay was still talking to his officer for a few more minutes. Finally, he came over to us.

"They want to take me to the station, to give a better statement," he explained.

"Wait, what? Did you see what happened?" I asked, surprised.

"Not… exactly. I'll explain later, okay?" he said. I hesitated before nodding, watching the officers lead him away.

"Come to think of it, Clay looked pretty shaken when I found him," Trucy mused.

"Really?"

"Yeah, but he didn't tell me about what…" she sighed, before looking up at me.

 _Well, neither of us can go home. Let's investigate!_

"Somehow, I don't see us getting back to that crime scene anytime soon," Trucy mused, her thoughts apparently in line with mine.

"Probably not," I sighed, wondering what happened.

"Ah well. Let's crack this case!" Trucy said brightly. I shook my head slightly as I looked at her.

 _I worry about her. She seems to have a very loose idea of what it means to be an 'attorney'…_

"Something the matter?" she asked.

"No…" I smiled. "Let's get cracking!" _So, our first order of business should be to see_ who _found the body first!_ "Let's see if we can find Gavin," I suggested. Our first stop was his dressing room.

"Huh. Looks like nobody's here," she mused.

"He's probably busy with the case, too," I said, realizing there was no way he'd not investigate it. "No rest for the wicked."

"No rest for us, either, Apollo! Let's get rocking! Rock, rock!" Trucy said brightly, shoving me out of the room. I laughed at her antics, shaking my head. The next place we checked was the stage.

"Looks empty," she remarked.

"That figures," I sighed.

"Oh well," she said with a shrug, before looking over at something. I looked up as well.

"Oh, the ladder. They needed it for the lights," I remarked.

"Why don't they use a stepladder?" Trucy asked. "I prefer stepladders, really. Is that so wrong?"

"Not wrong, just…" I trailed off, looking at her. "Well, why do you prefer stepladders?"

She thought about it for a minute. "They're so much more flexible than plain old ladders!" she finally said.

"I… prefer my ladders rigid and stable, thank you," I replied, and she rolled her eyes at me. I grinned back, before pointing to a large instrument case.

"Know what that's for?" I asked.

"A contrabass, I think…" she replied.

"You could fit twenty violins in there, I bet," I said, studying it.

"It may look like a violin, but it's a completely different instrument!" Trucy said in a superior way. I smirked.

"You could fit five Trucys in there, I bet."

"Hey! Are you comparing me to an instrument?" she demanded. I laughed, shaking my head at her, and she rolled her eyes, looking back at the case. "I wonder who left it sitting open like that…" she mused. I shrugged.

"Probably one of the stage hands. It was a mess of chaos back here, to be honest," I explained. She nodded in understanding, and we continued to look around.

"Wow, that piano looks much bigger close up! Machi played so beautifully," she sighed happily. I smiled warmly as well, remembering.

"Yeah, like a real pianist," I said with a warm smile. Trucy looked up at me.

"That's just silly, Polly! How can you call someone as good as Machi a 'pianist'? Why, that's like throwing him in the same class as Daddy!" she countered. I burst out laughing at that.

"G-good thing Dad didn't hear that one," I snickerd, and Trucy giggled as well.

"He'd probably cut off my allowance," she agreed, and we both laughed again. Finally, we both decided to head back to the hall. There, I noticed something sitting on the ground.

"What's that?" Trucy asked as I stopped and picked it up.

"And earpiece, like the one I'm wearing," I explained, tapping my ear for emphasis. "Everyone involved with the concert had to wear one, so… what is this doing here?" I wondered, turning it over in my hands. I noticed the LED light was still on. "Strange…" I muttered.

"This might be evidence!" Trucy said. I smiled.

"It might be! After all, LeTouse had one too," I said, slipping it into my pocket. We then made our way to the crime scene: Lamiroir's dressing room. There, Ema was investigating. She looked up when hearing us.

"Oh, it's you. I figured you'd come," she said.

"You have to let us investigate the scene, please," I said.

"You're an attorney, Apollo. Shouldn't you wait until you have a client?" she asked.

 _Clay witnessed something… something that he'll probably have to testify about. I need to know what happened!_

"G-glare at me all you want, you'll get no snacks from me," Ema said, holding her bag of Snackoos possessively.

 _Who said anything about that…?_

"Please! Think of poor Lamiroir!" Trucy pleaded.

"Hmph. Oh well, I suppose. Your friend did find the body with me," Ema said offhandedly.

"Wait, what!?" I gasped.

"Yeah. We were talking, when we heard the gunshots," she explained. "It was right after you left, actually. The killer was already gone when we got in, which means they left someway other than the door," Ema explained, crossing her arms. I nodded.

"Well, that explains why the cops took Clay away," Trucy said softly. I nodded.

"Right. If this goes to court, he'll probably be put on the witness stand," I said. Trucy nodded in agreement to that.

"Well, let's look around!" Trucy said.

"Try not to touch anything!" Ema warned. We nodded. I looked around for a few minutes, before looking up, spotting an air vent.

"What's wrong, Apollo? Your mouth is catching flies," Trucy said. I snapped my mouth closed, unaware it had opened when I looked up.

"Ah? Um, nothing. It's nothing," I said. _Maybe that's how the killer escaped…_ I thought.

"'Maybe that's how the killer escaped.' That's what you were thinking, right?" Ema asked, walking over to me.

"Eh," I muttered, unnerved by her guessing my thoughts.

"When we arrived on the scene, the killer had already fled. He or he must have had a way out. And that air vent is one possibility," Ema explained.

"But it's much too small," Trucy protested.

"Hmm… not if the killer were about your size, Trucy," I muttered, deep in thought. Silence met my words, until finally, I looked up at the two women staring at me.

"What?"

"I didn't do it!" Trucy suddenly snapped.

"Eh!?"

"I was cutting up the dance floor at the time, thank you!" she continued.

"I know, I know!" I said, taking a step back. "Of course I don't think you did it!"

"It's hard to tell with you, sometimes, Polly," Trucy huffed.

 _Hey! What have I done!?_ I silently demanded, watching as Trucy stomped away. Suddenly, she spotted something at her feet.

"Ooh, what a pretty brooch!" Trucy said brightly, reaching down to pick it up. I recognized the emerald green, diamond shaped brooch that looked a lot like Trucy's. It was Lamiroir's. "Oh, Ema…?" Trucy asked.

"You're not going to say, 'can I have it, please,' are you?" Ema demanded, looking up from her notebook.

"Oh…" Trucy said.

"It's not healthy to envy the young, Ema," I said with a grin.

"It's not about envy!" Ema snapped. "It's about tampering with evidence!"

 _Note to self: Ema lacks a sense of humor. Use caution_ , I thought, knowing that not to be entirely true. After all, we were cracking jokes left and right at the restaurant... I quickly made a note of the brooch in my court record. Trucy continued to stare at it longingly. Ema noticed.

"No way! If you want one that bad, get your daddy to but it for you!" Ema snapped.

"Daddy always says: 'Trucy, Apollo, if you want something, go find or borrow it.' Oh, and 'when in doubt, beg,'" Trucy said. I groaned softly.

"Leave it to Mr. Wright…" Ema mused, looking between the two of us.

"You know Dad only said that because he got tired of you bugging him about that 'Super Deluxe Magical Prop Set,' right?" I asked.

"Oh, really?" she mused.

 _I'm a little concerned about Trucy. I think I'm going to have to talk to Dad about his 'jokes'…_

"Are these… bullet holes?" Trucy suddenly asked, across the room. I looked up.

"Looks like it. There are two here in the wall," I said, going over to her.

"From the look of it, the victim was shot once in the shoulder," Ema said from where she had walked back over to the body. "The first shot must have missed."

"But there are two holes. Wouldn't that mean two misses?" Trucy asked.

"The murder weapon is a 45-caliber revolver. It's very powerful," Ema said, shaking her head. "I believe what we're seeing here… is the mark left by the second bullet after it passed through his shoulder!" Ema gasped.

"Ouch," Trucy said, touching her shoulder. "Sounds painful."

 _No kidding. I wonder about this murder weapon,_ I thought, looking around.

"Ooh! Polly! Can I eat some of those, please!?" Trucy suddenly said, spotting a fruit basket.

"Absolutely not!" Ema scolded.

"I know. I know! But still, I yearn!" Trucy sighed.

"Look, you're not the only one eyeing that fruit here," Ema sighed wistfully.

"Well them what are we waiting for? Let's eat!" Trucy said brightly, reaching for the basket.

"Right!" Ema added.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I yelled, darting over to the girls, grabbing both their arms. "Are you two crazy? Ema, you of all people should know better," I said, looking at the detective. She pouted at me.

"But she tempted me! She's a… she's a temptress!" Ema replied.

 _Please, grow up…_ I thought in exasperation, looking around. Ema returned to the body once more, while Trucy stayed at my elbow.

"Huh, another ladder," I said, noticing it, thinking back to the one we found on the stage.

"Actually, it's technically a stepladder," Trucy said.

"Well hello Ms. Fancy Pants! Please forgive my lack of ladder discrimination," I said, crossing my arms. Trucy widened her eyes and looked at me, and I felt a small glow of pride that I managed to one up her for once.

"I'm less worried about the stepladder, and more worried about why it's there," Ema said, ignoring our sibling spat. I looked back over to it, noticing it was under the vent.

 _Oh no…_

"I still say it's a stepladder…" Trucy huffed.

"Right," I said with a grin only an older brother could pull off, before moving to the other side of the room.

"What an amazing bouquet. I mean, it's giant," I gasped, spotting the mass of flowers.

"Not sure I approve," Ema huffed, reaching over to study a flower closer. "It'd be better if this flower was a bit more… Oh." The head of the flower snapped off, dropping to the ground at her feet.

"Eek! The flower fell off!" Trucy gasped. I grinned, crossing my arms.

"What happened to preserving the crime scene, Ema?" I asked.

"It's fine! Fine!" Ema gasped, snatching the flower from the ground and shoving it at the bouquet. "I'll just put it back, see?" she said with a nervous grin.

 _How scientific…_ I thought. _Though… how would the bouquet be better…?_ I thought curiously.

"Look, there's a little window over here! Maybe the killer escaped through that!" Trucy said, looking at a small window that looked into the hall.

"It's barely big enough for me to get my head through," I pointed out. Trucy smirked, opening her mouth.

"Not to mention it only opens a crack," Ema said, cutting off Trucy's reply.

"What?" Trucy asked, looking up at her. "I was just saying it's possible."

"Right, right, no harm in that," I said, patting her shoulder. _Except I'm pretty sure it is impossible…_

"You could peek into the room through it, though, you know," Ema said. I smiled weakly, before turning to the elephant in the room.

LeTouse's body. Trucy looked at it too, before gripping my arm tight.

"Th-that's a body, isn't it?" she asked. I nodded, only able to imagine how Clay delt with this.

"Sure is," Ema said offhandedly, before smirking. "The victim, no less. Let's take a closer look."

"Eeek!" Trucy gasped. "G-go ahead, Polly! You first." She let go of my hand and gave me a little shove forward.

"Me!?" I gasped. After all, this was only the second dead body I'd ever seen. "No, you should go first, Trucy, really…"

"Well you two stop bickering and get over here!?" Ema snapped, accompanied by the plastic rustle of a snack bag.

 _She's munching on Snackoos again. Hope she's not too annoyed…_ I thought, inching closer. I studied the corpse for a few minutes, Trucy still hanging on to my cape tightly.

"Polly, look at this hand," she suddenly said, pointing to the man's left hand, which was clutched tightly. I looked closer.

"Hmm. He's holding something," I said, reaching forward, only to suddenly be hit by a piece of chocolate.

"Hey! No touching!" Ema snapped.

"You can throw all the snacks at me you'd like, Ema," I said, looking up at the woman. "But sooner or later… you're going to run out of them." A look of shock flashed across her face.

"You raise a good point," she said, before moving closer and looking at the man's hand. "Hmm… I'm a bit intrigued by this scene. Let's take a look," she said.

"Ah… see there?" Trucy asked once the detective pried the man's hand open. "He's holding something! What is it?" she asked as Ema held up a heart shaped keyring with three keys dangling off.

"Ah!" I gasped. "That's Gavin's missing keys!" I said, remembering seeing them a few times while setting up for the concert.

"Wait, these were what was stolen?" Ema asked. I nodded.

"The… victim stole them?" Trucy asked.

"I don't know…" I admitted, making a note of them in my court record.

"Eeek!" Trucy suddenly screamed, causing my to nearly drop my notebook. I quickly looked up at her. "Is that… blood?" she demanded, pointing to a smear near the man's other hand. "Umm… why don't you examine this one, Polly. You know more about, uh, red stuff than I do." She hid under my cape, behind my back. "Yep!"

"…Says who?" I demanded, lifting my cape to look down at her. She flashed a nervous grin at me, and I rolled my eyes, looking back at the smear. _Something does look strange with that blood though…_

Something else, near the body, caught my eye. I moved closer, aware of Trucy moving with me.

"This is the murder weapon, isn't it?" I asked, pointing to it. "This revolver?"

"That's right. A big .45-caliber revolver," Ema explained.

"Wow," Trucy said, her head popping out of my cape under my arm. "I wonder who brought this in here? I thought only police were allowed to have one of those."

"Hmm…" I hummed, staring into space, a finger pressed to my forehead.

"Why are you giving me that look!?" Ema suddenly demanded, snapping me out of my thoughts and making me realize that I had been staring at her. "I didn't do it!"

"I didn't…"

"Listen, I was out in the hall eating Snackroos and talking to Clay when it happened!" Ema continued.

"I know, I know!" I said. "No one here thinkgs you did it, Ema."

"It's hard to tell with you, sometimes, Apollo," Ema replied, and I felt a vague sense of déjà vu.

 _What have I done!?_

"Wait, if the killer brought a revolver… it must mean they had planned this from the start," Trucy gasped, before turning to a surprised Ema. "That's right, right?"

"Well… yeah," Ema said. I nodded, adding notes about the murder weapon to my court record.

"A .45-caliber revolver, very deadly," I said softly as I wrote about it.

"You know, Polly, I was wondering…" Trucy said, suddenly next to me rather than under my cape. "What's a caliber? And what does the '.45' mean?" she asked.

"Huh?" I asked, surprised she didn't know this.

"Heh, you want me to tell you?" Ema said. "It's the size of the barrel. Simply put, the larger the caliber, the larger the round. The bullet, in other words. Bigger bullets do more damage."

"Wow, chalk one up for forensic science," I teased.

"You know it!" Ema said brightly.

"…But it's not 45 inches, right? That'd be too big. What unit of measurement they use, Ms. Science? Well?" Trucy asked. Ema stared at her for a moment, before looking away, munching her Snackoos again.

"Hush. Kids shouldn't ask so many questions," she said. I grinned, amused she didn't know the answer.

"It is inches," I said to Trucy. "But no, the bullet isn't _forty-five_ inches, but _point forty-five_ of an inch," I explained.

"Oh…" Trucy said. "That's why you keep calling it a '.45' instead of '45,'" she said. I nodded with a smile.

"Right."

"You know, that revolver looks really heavy," I said, watching Ema handle it.

"It's been fired twice," she suddenly announced. "You can still smell the gunpowder." Her eyes widened. "Huh. That's odd."

"What's odd?" I asked.

"Hmm?" She looked up at us, as though just remembering we were here. "Oh, nothing."

"Hey, no fair!" Trucy complained. "Tell us!"

"It's just, something about this revolver seems… strange," Ema admitted.

"Strange?" I asked.

"Well, what do you think about it?" Ema asked.

"Well, it pretty big. And heavy looking," I said.

"That's right. It's a .45-caliber. That makes it one of the deadliest revolvers around. Even the police don't carry guns this big," Ema explained.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah. It doesn't make sense. You don't need so much power to kill at such close range. It's overkill," the detective explained.

"I'm not sure I see the problem," Trucy suddenly pipped up. "I mean, whenever I go out to eat curry, I order 'extra spicy.' Just to be sure it's spice. Of course, I can only ever eat one or two bites."

"I know," I said flatly, thinking about all the money wasted when we go out for curry.

"There's another thing about a gun this big," Ema said, pulling our attention back to the present. "It puts a lot of strain on the shooter."

"Strain?" I asked.

"Yeah. Say you were to fire this revolver. The recoil would probably dislocate your shoulder," Ema said.

"Ouuuuuuch!" Trucy whined. "It's like the shooter's a victim, too!"

"Yet the killer used this revolver, and quite well. I'm guessing whoever did it was used to shooting," Ema said.

 _Used to shooting a high-caliber weapon…? Hmm…_

"So, Apollo, what do you know about the victim?" Ema asked. I looked up.

"Huh?"

"You met him before tonight," she added.

"Oh, right. Well, Mr. 'Romein LeTouse.'" I said. "He was Lamiroir's manager and interpreter. This was his first time in the country," I explained.

"Hmm… so I'm guessing he didn't know many people here," Trucy said.

"It doesn't seem likely. Nor can I think of anyone with a motive to murder him… except for one person, of course.

"Lamiroir," Trucy said.

"What!? No way!" I snapped. Both woman looked at me in surprise. "There's no way Lamiroir would do something like that!" I asserted, glaring at Trucy. She held up her hands.

"Whoa, hey, it was Ema's idea!" she said.

"I said nothing," Ema replied, munching away.

 _Always with the snacks…_ I thought in annoyance.

"He's a big man. Or was. I don't think even I would win a fight with him," Trucy said, redirecting the conversation. I took a deep breath, returning to the conversation on hand.

"Which is why whoever it was used a revolver, I'm guessing," I said.

"We've sent a request to the Borginian Embassy for more info on him," Ema added helpfully, before looking around. "Well, that's about it. I think we've looked at just about everything there is."

"I guess you're right," I said, giving the room another once over.

"I know how you're feeling. It is hard to know when to stop. But anything more involved has to wait until the squad gets here," Ema sighed.

"Argh… I suppose…" Trucy sighed.

"I'll go report the evidence," Ema said, walking towards the door. "Sorry, but could you wait here till I get back?"

"Huh?" I asked, looking up. "Oh, actually, we have to—"

"Great! Thanks!" the woman said, disappearing out the door.

"Aaaaaand… she left."

"What do we do, Polly? She told us to wait," Trucy asked, looking up at us.

"Great. Now how am I supposed to investigate?" I demanded at the ceiling.

"Oh well, I guess it can't be helped. Let's go," Trucy said, grabbing my wrist and pulling me to the door.

"Huh? Go?"

"Time's a wasting, Polly! We've got a lot of ground to cover!" Trucy said.

"Well, that's true, but…" I trailed off, before shrugging. "On second thought, why not. I'm sure everything will be fine."

"Of course it will! Let's go!" Trucy said brightly. We stepped through the door, only to spot a flash of yellow at the end of the hall. Trucy gasped, while I looked after it.

"We… didn't just imagine that, did we?" Trucy asked.

"No…" I said, looking down at her. _Does she not recognize him?_

"Well… whoever that was, he sure looked suspicious!" Trucy huffed, before grabbing my arm. "Let's go!" She dragged me along before I could protest, until we reached the stage.

"What is it with today!?" I heard certain prosecutor seethe. "Problem after problem! Achtung!"

"You ain't kidding," the one he was talking to, Daryan Crescend, said as we stepped around the curtain into the wings.

"It's the two leading members of the Gavinners, Polly!" Trucy gasped, gripping my arm tight. "Klavier on vocals, and Daryan on guitar! They're so cool!"

"Yeah… I know," I said, extracting my arm from her grasp. _It's not like I didn't work with them for two weeks or anything…_

"Huh? What are they arguing about?" Trucy mused.

"Probably the case, I'd bet," I said.

"My hog won't start. My guitar case is busted… my guitar's been burnt to a crisp, and to top it all off, someone's dead!" the prosecutor ranted, before turning on his bandmate. "And then there was that performance just now. What was that all about!?" he demanded.

"Hey, man, don't blame me. You were the one who missed the cue," Crescend argued.

"Me? Miss a cue!?" Gavin demanded. "How could I conceivably get the most important part of _that_ song wrong? How!? And what was all that tinny playing of yours?"

"Who you calling 'tinny'!?" Crescend countered.

"Sounds like they're having a spat. One of those 'differences in musical direction' bands are always splitting up over," Trucy said, crossing her arms.

"This is hardly the time…" I groaned. Just then, we were noticed.

"Hmm? What are you two doing here?" Gavin demanded, walking over to us.

"Ah, um, hiya…" I muttered.

"We were just discussing the investigation, if you don't mind," Gavin said.

"Sorry," I said, before his words registered. "Wait." I looked up at him with a quirked eyebrow. "You were what?"

"Listen," he turned to the man again. "You need to confirm that with the Republic of Borginia, Detective Crescend."

 _Ah, that's right. All the band members are also part of law enforcement,_ I remembered.

"So, about the crime…" I started.

"Which crime do you mean?" Gavin asked. I sighed.

"The murder," I said. _The real crime._

"What else would he be talking about?" Trucy asked.

"For me, today has been a hit parade of crimes, you see," Gavin sighed.

"Oh, right. Something about your hog, and your guitar case?" she asked.

"Anyway. I'm afraid you know more about the killing of Mr. LeTouse than I do." Gavin smirked, leaning close "For now, at least."

"Huh?" I asked.

"Your friend was the one who found the body, ja? While we were in the idle of a performance, no less," he said.

"Well, yeah, but he didn't tell me anything about it, to be honest. I found that out from Detective Skye," I replied. "I was back stage, saving your effects at the time of the murder."

"Oh."

"Aren't you going to examine the crime scene, Prosecutor Gavin?" Trucy asked.

"I'll leave that to Fräulein Detective. Wouldn't want to step on her toes," Gavin said, standing up straight and running a hand through his hair.

"They're not exactly best buddies, are they? Ema and Prosecutor Gavin, I mean," Trucy asked me softly. I smiled slightly at that.

"Well, what to do next?" I asked. "We've already check out the scene…" _Gavin may be right. We might be the most informed, for once._

"Maybe Prosecutor Gavin can shed some light on things we've found!" Trucy said.

"Ah! That's right!" I said, pulling the keyring from my pocket. "Gavin, we found your keys," I announced, holding them up.

"Ah! Thanks!" The man said with a grin, reaching for them. "Where did you find it?"

I pulled the keys back. "Erm, actually, the victim was holding it. Like he was trying to keep it from the killer. Even if it meant his life," I explained. Gavin's eyes widened, his hand freezing in midair.

"Wh… what!? The victim… you mean, Mr. LeTouse had my keys?" he demanded.

"Indeed."

"Hmm… when will my trials be over?" Gavin muttered, dropping his hand and looking away.

"Speaking of trials, I've never heard Mr. Gavin whine in court like he has been today," Trucy muttered.

"Ema was right about the fop, I'll give her that," I said with a teasing grin. Gavin only smiled slightly, still very troubled.

"Polly!" Trucy scolded, missing our glance. "Mr. Gavin, maybe we can help. Tell us about your troubles today," she said, turning to the man.

"I really don't think that's…" Gavin began.

"Tell us… and we'll keep mum about the key ring for now," Trucy added with a smirk. I gasped, looking at her in shock, my hat slipping slightly over my eyes. I pushed it up in time to see Gavin smirking at Trucy, hands on hips, leaning closer to her.

"Are… you blackmailing me, Fräulein?" he asked. Trucy's smirk was answer enough. I shook my head and looked at the man.

"You were saying something about your motorcycle not starting?" I asked. _Again…_ I thought back to the Kitaki case, when his bike broke down then too.

"And something about your guitar case being busted?" Trucy added.

"You're well informed…" Gavin said, looking between the two of us.

 _You've only been complaining about it all day… plus I saw the case,_ I thought.

"You mentioned it a few times," Trucy said with a grin.

"Ach. It all happened this morning. And it's all that key ring's fault," Gavin said with a glare at the keys in my hands.

"The keyring?" I asked.

"It's got all my keys on it, ja? My bike key, my car key… and the key to my guitar case," Gavin explained.

"Wait, so this key ring…" Trucy started.

"It disappeared." Gavin looked to the side, crossing his arms. "I thought I'd put it in my jacket pocket…"

 _Gavin's key ring… disappeared? That would explain Ema…_

"I had to come to the concert by taxi. How embarrassing!" Gavin sighed. I smiled slightly, remembering _that_ view earlier. "And in order to get my guitar out, I had to break the lock."

"I saw that," I said, remembering Gavin go at the case with a fire extinguisher. I suddenly realized something.

"Wait, this guitar wasn't the one that…" I trailed off, looking up at him.

"The very one. Up in flames," he said bitterly, showing us the burnt remnants of the guitar. "And right on stage, too."

"I actually thought that was part of the show," Trucy reminded him.

"Crazy," Gavin sighed. "And to top it off, Mr. LeTouse's life was taken. Nobody told me 'bout days like these." He sighed again.

"Strange days, indeed," I added, earning another tense smile from Gavin.

"You think?"

"Hmm…" Trucy hummed, a thoughtful look on her face.

"What's wrong, Trucy?" I asked.

"Well, I was just trying to make sense of everything," she admitted. "First, this heart shaped key ring gets stolen. Then a very expensive guitar flares up on stage. "Then Mr. LeTouse dies…"

"Yes, and…?" Gavin asked, curious. I'll admit, I was curious myself.

"Could it all really be just a coincidence…?" she mused.

"Coincidence…?" Gavin asked. "Meaning?" He turned to the detective. "Daryan, can you make any sense of all this?"

"Hey, don't look at me," the man snapped after a moment's hesitation.

"What do you think, Polly?" Trucy asked, looking at me.

"Huh?"

"I mean, either Mr. Gavin's having a really bad day… or all this was planned," she said.

Gavin looked at her for a moment, his eyebrows drawing together in an intense look. "You… aren't thinking what I think you're thinking… are you, Fräulein?" he said.

"I am!" Trucy said.

"What? What!?" Crescend demanded. "Hey, don't leave me in the dark with Magic Boy, here."

 _The name's Apollo, but yeah, I agree…_ _Don't leave us in the dark. What are you talking about?_

"Haven't you notice a connection, Polly?" Trucy asked. "A curious connection between all of Mr. Gavin's troubles today?"

"Um, well…" It hit me like a speeding bullet. "Wait! You don't mean…"

"I do," Trucy said with a grin.

"'The Guitar Serenade'…" Gavin said with a scowl.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Crescend demanded.

"It has everything to do with everything," Gavin said.

 _How articulate_ , I thought dryly.

"Though I wouldn't have believed it if the Fräulein hadn't pointed it out."

"What are you talking about, man? Enough with the riddles!" Crescend snapped.

"Maybe it is a coincidence… or perhaps it means something. What do you think, Fräulein?" Gavin asked, looking at Trucy.

"I do. Everything that's happened to Mr. Gavin today… is _predicted_ in the lyrics to this song!" Trucy declared.

"Wh-whaaat!? No way!" Crescend gasped.

"Look, just think about everything that's happened to Mr. Gavin. Let's list them in order that they occurred… while reading the lyrics sheet!" Trucy said, pulling the paper from her pocket. I nodded, not needing it.

"First, the key ring was stolen," I began.

"And not just any key ring! A heart-shaped key ring!" Trucy said.

"Which is part of the song. 'When you stole away the keys my heart held on to so tight.' This is a 'heart' holding 'keys'!" I said.

"And next, his guitar burst into flame," Trucy said.

"'Burning on in my heart. Fire. Burn my love away…'" I quoted.

"And then Mr. LeTouse was killed," Trucy continued.

"'Like a bullet of love. Fire. Take my life away…'" I said. Gavin smirked at me.

"You should do that again… but sing it, Herr Forehead," he said. I rolled my eyes at him.

"This is crazy," I said, ignoring his comment.

"Yeah, no kidding!" Trucy said.

"So everything that happened today, here… this song predicted it all?" Crescend asked.

"Or perhaps it was the other way around," Gavin suddenly said, a dark look coming over his face.

"Huh?" I asked.

"The criminal could have based his crime on the lyrics," Gavin explained. I shook my head.

"This was when the song debuted. No one except the staff and band would know the lyrics early enough to set it all up," I reminded him. "Besides, who would go through all that trouble?"

"Someone who moves in mysterious ways, no doubt," Gavin said, before sighing. "I believe you've stumbled upon something quite vital… and quite annoying, Fräulein."

Trucy giggled in response. I shook my head. _She looks pleased…_

"Anyways, thanks for finding the keys. If you'd found it under different circumstances, I'd be even happier," Gavin said.

"I wonder why Mr. LeTouse was holding it?" Trucy mused. I smirked.

"Maybe he was trying to tell us something?" I said innocently. "Maybe that Gavin is the killer?"

"Herr Forehead, save your wild accusations for the court. I do so enjoy the penalties," Gavin said, barely suppressing a grin. I chuckled at him, shaking my head. Trucy had a thoughtful look on her face.

"So, what's that missed cue you kept talking about?" she suddenly asked, reminding Gavin of yet another of his problems. He chuckled.

"You heard it, didn't you? From the audience?" he asked.

"Um actually… I didn't notice anything," she admitted.

"See!" Crescend said. "No amateur is going to pick up on that!"

"Can you guarantee an entire audience of amateurs?" Gavin demanded. "No!" He answered his own question, before wrapping an arm around me and Trucy, drawing us over to a small machine. "Now take a listen to this!"

"What's that…?" Trucy asked.

"A mixing board. We used it to record our concert tonight," Gavin explained.

 _Aren't we supposed to be investigating a murder…?_

Gavin went on to explain how we could listen to each part, and each instrument, separately. He then set us to find the missed cue. I noticed, after listening to the part he pointed out a few times, that the timing was a little off. Finally, I looked up.

"This part is off: Track two. The second guitar," I said, before looking over at the detective. "That was you, wasn't it?" I asked. His wince and scowl was answer enough.

"Ah well, looks like the cat's out of the bag," he sighed.

"'Ah well'? That's all you have to say!? That kind of attitude lets killers walk free, Daryan!" Gavin snapped.

"Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to ask about the concert," I said, giving Trucy a pointed look. "It's starting to feel like we're just wasting time."

"It's all experience under our belts! That can't be bad!" she countered. I shook my head, but made a note in my court record. Who knew if this would come in handy?

"The lyric predicting the crime… Klavier?" Crescend suddenly said, trying to change the topic. It worked.

"Seems a bit more than just a coincidence to me," he sighed.

"I have to agree. The key ring, the guitar, and the murder…" Crescend listed off.

"The key ring might have been dropped by accident," I countered, remembering the chaos of yesterday as we did final preperations for the show.

"Yet the victim was holding it. Hard to think that was unconnected," Gavin reminded me.

"That's true," I sighed, surprised at the prosecutor's sudden calm demeanor.

"So the criminal matched their actions to the lyrics?" Trucy asked.

"Sounds likely," Crescend said.

"Why would anyone do that?" I asked.

"While we think about that, I'm going to get cracking on the biggest crime here. I'm going to talk to the Borginian Embassy about this Mr. LeTouse," Crescend said, heading for the door.

"Ah, right. Thanks, Daryan," Gavin called after him.

"I'll leave the pondering of mysteries to you. I'm outta here," he called over his shoulder, exiting.

"A forein national, Mr. LeTouse was killed…" Gavin sighed, irritation beginning to roll off of him again. "It seems like that would have to be the 'point' of all this. But they did more than that. They left us with not only a murder, but a mystery!"

"Mr. Gavin sure is irritable today," Trucy muttered.

"Hmm, yeah," I hummed.

"I've had enough, frankly. If you find any more mysteries, do me a favor and keep them to yourself, ja?" he snapped, walking towards the door.

"Ja," I muttered. _I guess that's all we're going to get from Gavin. That leaves Lamiroir to question._ "Gavin, do you know where Lamiroir is now?" I called after him.

"Ah, I had her go to my dressing room. With that pianist, Machi Tobaye, of course. She seemed rather shocked by Mr. LeTouse's sudden passing," he called over his shoulder, before leaving.

 _The Gavinner's dressing room. Got it!_ I thought, leading the way.

…

"Ah, Lamiroir!" Trucy said brightly as we entered the dressing room. I smiled at her, a warm feeling of safety and comfort stealing over me. I don't know what it is about the Borginian woman, but I always felt this way around her.

"What… what has happened?" she asked. I reeled back in shock. "I heard that Mr. LeTouse has died!"

"L-Lamiroir! You speak?" I gasped, before realizing how that sounded. "I mean, you speak English?"

"Ah… yes," she replied, putting a hand over her vailed mouth. "I was invited here from the Republic of Borginia… but I am not Borginian by birth," she admitted.

"But… wasn't Mr. LeTouse your interpreter?" Trucy asked.

"Ah, that," she sighed. "Yes, well… it was Mr. LeTouse's idea. He thought it would add to the mystery, you see," she admitted.

"Then, your pianist is also…?" I began, looking over at the young boy, who simply stared off into space, staying silent.

"No, Machi Tobaye is Borginian. He does not speak English," Lamiroir said, before moving closer to me. "Now, please, tell me! What has happened to Mr. LeTouse? Why did he…" she trailed off, her eyes welling with tears. I went to reach for her shoulder, instinctually wanting to comfort her, but dropped my hand.

After all, she was a virtual stranger.

"Actually, Mr. LeTouse was—" Trucy began.

"Trucy!" I said, cutting her off.

"Huh?"

"Remember what Gavin said? 'Not a word'!"

"B-but Mr. LeTouse is Lamiroir's manager! That's not fair to her! I mean, isn't she a related party?" Trucy demanded.

 _Precisely who Gavin doesn't want to alert, I suspect…_ I thought, though deep down, I felt really bad about keeping this from her.

"All we have been told is to wait here in this room. It is very unsettling," Lamiroir sighed.

"I'm sorry, we're trying to figure it out ourselves," I said. "Do… you think I could ask you some questions?"

"Of course. I am always willing to help," the woman said, sitting on the couch again. I smiled warmly at her.

 _Calm as always. I can't put my finger on why, but I really like her…_

Machi suddenly said something, and Lamiroir looked over at him.

"What is it, Machi?" she asked. The boy spoke again, and the woman gasped. "What… but you'd be alone!" He replied.

"Um, what seems to be the problem?" I asked.

"Machi… he is not good around strangers. He wishes to go out for a breath of fresh air. Would that be alright?" Lamiroir asked.

"Uh, sure, of course," I said. We watched as the boy stood and made his way out the door, before the woman looked at me again.

"Very well. What is it you wished to ask me about?" she asked.

"The Republic of Borginia… that's in Northern Europe, right?" I asked.

"I've never even heard of it," Trucy admitted.

"I started out singing in a restaurant. Then a producer called me. Before I knew it, here I am," Lamiroir said.

"You don't say!" Trucy gasped in excitement. "You know, our daddy plays piano in a restaurant!"

"Producers tend to look for talent, Trucy," I said, earning a giggle from her. I smiled, before looking at the woman. "Lamiroir, you're not from Borginia originally? Were you born here?" I asked. For the past week, I thought the woman seemed familiar. This was the first time I'd gotten to sit and talk to her.

Maybe… just maybe... I'd figure out how I knew her.

"Well…" Lamiroir hummed.

"Oh…" I said, feeling a little disheartened. "Is that supposed to be a secret?"

"Image is everything when you're a star, remember Polly?"

"Ah, yes, it is something like this," she said. "A contract, you might say. I'm also not to speak anything but Borginese in public," she admitted.

"Image is important, I guess," I sighed. _Better luck next time…_

"You're not just all image though! I love your songs!" Trucy gushed. "A real 'Siren of the Ballad,' right?"

"Yes, in Borginese, 'Lamiroir' means 'the Siren,'" the woman said with a smile.

"Your pianist… Machi, was it?" Trucy said. "He's cute! Like a porcelain doll…"

"He's very 'European,'" I added.

"I met him while singing in restaurants in Borginia. He is an orphan… yet his playing is exquisite. Soon he came to live with me," Lamiroir explained. My stomach twisted slightly, and my throat closed, but I couldn't identify the emotion that suddenly sprang up in me, so I pushed it away.

"It's like a fairy tale, almost," Trucy sighed.

"I noticed he hardly leaves your side," I said, earning a weird look from both women, before realizing my voice was a little colder then I meant. I cleared my throat slightly.

"Yes, well, he is blind. At first, I hesitated at dragging him across the world," Lamiroir explained.

"He doesn't speak English, either, does he?" I asked, careful to make sure my voice wasn't cold.

"He had never left Borginia before we met," Lamiroir admitted. "I made his presence part of my contract. Machi and I together are 'Lamiroir.' Together, always."

My stomach twisted again. I fought down that feeling, not dwelling on it long enough to really identify it.

"So, about Mr. LeTouse…" I began.

"Mr. LeTouse… was my new manager," Lamiroir said.

"New?" I asked.

"Yes, from three months ago. Around when I received Mr. Gavin's invitation to come. I met Mr. LeTouse at my office. He was to be my manager and bodyguard… and, as it turned out, my interpreter," she explained.

"Interpreter… even though you speak English," I said.

"Yes, but we were to visit more places than just here," she reminded me. "We had a concert in Japan scheduled after this one, though I fear that may have to be cancelled now…"

 _That's right. I was still trying to figure out how to bring it up to everyone that I would be going on tour with the Gavinners…_ I glanced at Trucy. _Maybe it's for the better that I'm not now…_

"Was Mr. LeTouse from the Republic of Borginia, too?" Trucy asked.

"Well… he was only with me for three months. I'm afraid there is much I do not know about him. And now, I shall never know." The woman sighed sadly, and it nearly broke my heart. "No one will even tell me why he has died."

"I-I'm sorry…" I said softly. "Gavin said we weren't to talk to anyone…"

"Mr. LeTouse… was a talented man. The 'Siren of the Ballad'… that phrase was his idea, you know. I am happy for him that it has become so well known," she said softly. I offered her a small smile before leaning back. The three of us sat in silence for a few moments, before I noticed something.

Lamiroir was missing her brooch. I _knew_ it was her's because I had worn an identical one on stage.

"Lamiroir, is this yours?" I asked, pulling it out. She reached for it, picking it up, before gasping.

"My brooch… yes! Well… it may be mine," she admitted.

"I knew it. You must have lost it earlier," I said. She nodded.

"Well, that explains the brooch we found. It was Lamiroir's!" Trucy said brightly.

 _So I was right… but that begs the question…_

"Is something wrong, Polly?" Trucy asked, looking over at me.

… _What was it doing at the crime scene?_

…

With nothing left to ask Lamiroir, we left the Gavinner's dressing room. Someone very nearly ran into us with their rushing.

"Whoa! Who's there now!?" I gasped.

"Ah, it's you," Ema gasped, looking over at me. She scowled at me. "Where were you!?" she demanded.

"Ack! Ema! Is something wrong?" I asked. _She's looking grumpier than usual…_

"You bet something's wrong!" she yelled at me. I took a step back, leaning against the door Trucy and I just came through. "The impossible's happened! Arrrgh! It's all your fault, you know!"

 _Oops. Maybe this is about us leaving the crime scene…_ I suddenly realized.

"What do you mean by 'impossible'?" Trucy asked.

"Well it's gone! Utterly gone!" the woman snapped.

"What gone?" Trucy asked.

"The body, stupid! What else?"

"Eh?"

"Mr. LeTouse's body has disappeared!" Ema clarified.

"Whaaaaaat!?" Trucy and I gasped. Ema grabbed our arms and dragged us both back to the crime scene, where Gavin waited.

"Ah, Gavin," I said.

"From your vacant stare, I gather you've heard the news," he said grimly, arms crossed.

"I heard Mr. LeTouse's body has gone missing…" I said.

"Look for yourself," the prosecutor invited. "Quite the pickle. Quite. The. Pickle."

Despite his calm exterior, I could tell a violent storm was brewing beneath the surface.

"How can you just stand there!?" Ema demanded. "We have to start the investi—"

"There's no need for alarm, Fräulein Detective."

"Wha!?"

"All entrances and exits have been sealed. The body will not leave the building," Gavin reminded us. "So, I suggest we go find ourselves a cadaver. There will be plenty of time to ponder the 'whys' later."

"Well, you seem pretty sure of yourself, Mr. Gavin," Trucy suddenly said.

"Oh, we'll find him. I'm rather enjoying this," Gavin said. Suddenly I realized there might not be a storm under the surface. For the first time tonight, it was someone else facing misfortune, not himself (well, unless you count LeTouse himself…).

 _How could Mr. LeTouse's body just 'disappear'?_ I wondered.

"Well, you heard the man. Let's get searching!" Trucy said brightly. I nodded, turning towards the door, only for someone else to come in, looking quite agitated.

"Yes, Daryan?" Gavin asked, noticing him.

"See, Geeter's gone missing. It was in the dressing room," the man explained.

"Geeter? Who's Geeter!?" Trucy demanded.

"That's what I call my guitar! You like, man?" Crescend said.

"Your guitar… was stolen?" Gavin asked, seeming surprised. Crescend nodded.

"This hasn't been a good day for guitars or geeters," Ema commented, and I knew she was referencing the earlier incident with the burning guitar. I couldn't help but smile slightly at that.

"Okay, Body first, then guitar. And if someone finds that guitar, please bring it to our dressing room," Gavin said, a note of authority in his voice. I nodded, leading Trucy out. Not fast enough, though, to miss Crescend's last words.

"Geeter's like a missing person, not lost 'n' found, man!"

We searched for a bit before reaching the stage.

"Hmm. Does something seem different to you, Polly?" Trucy asked.

"Yeah, the tower was raised. Come on, there's a ladder on the back," I said, running over to the ladder.

"How do you know that?" Trucy asked, following me up.

"I helped set up the tower," I answered distractedly. I hated heights. Of course, earlier, I hadn't been thinking about that, but now it was at the forefront of my mind. I gasped when we reached the top. Trucy screamed, attracting everyone to the stage.

We found two things we were looking for, and one thing we never expected to find. The body, guitar in hand, and the pianist, Machi Tobaye.

…

Finally, after some questioning as to finding the body, Ema drove us back to the office. I was too high strung to give her directions home, and Trucy had fallen asleep in the back.

"Thanks for the ride," I said, scooping Trucy up onto my back.

"No problem," she said, driving off, leaving me to carry my sleeping sister in. I carefully placed her on the couch, carefully pulling her cape and had off, before stretching out on the floor myself. I shot Dad a text telling him where we were so he wouldn't worry.

It was a few more hours before I could coax my body to fall asleep.

…

"Wow, that concert last night sure went south in a hurry," Trucy said as we ate breakfast: Eldoon Noodles. There was nothing in the office, and I was too tired to go anywhere else further.

"No kidding. Why did they arrest Machi!? Why!?" Trucy demanded. We found out by the news this morning.

"Don't look at me like it's my fault!" I snapped, sulking in my bowl of noodles. _Machi Tobaye, the blind pianist… arrested on suspicion of murdering Romein LeTouse…_

"I can't believe such a cute little boy could do something so horrible," Trucy sighed.

"I guess they had proof of some kind," I said with a shrug.

"What proof could possible prove that!?" Trucy demanded.

"Mornin'," a voice suddenly said from the door. I looked up, spotting Gavin, and was suddenly aware that my hair was still a mess from waking up, and that I was still in the wrinkled stage suit I wore under my cape.

"G-Gavin!?" I gasped, a little jealous of his perfect appearance, as though he hadn't been up all night as well.

"What a night, eh? I apologize for being so upset," he said.

"Mr. Gavin, do you know what's going on? Why did they arrest Machi!? Why!?" Trucy started before I could even respond. I scowled.

"Don't look at him like it's his fault either," I scolded.

"It was tough for me, too," Gavin admitted, sitting. "We performed together last night, after all. Yet…" he trailed off.

"Yet?" Trucy asked.

"The powers that be say that, given the circumstances, it could only have been him," Gavin said, with just a hint of bitterness.

"What do you mean by the 'circumstances'?" I asked, not liking where this was going.

"Lamiroir was invited from Borginia as an ambassador of goodwill. It is vital that this case be wrapped up swiftly. That's all the powers that be want, really," Gavin admitted.

"Well, those are circumstances, alright," I sighed. "But what makes Machi the only possible suspect?"

"Herr Forehead… you seem to have forgotten that you're talking to the prosecution… the enemy," Gavin said with a smirk. I smiled back.

"Ah. Right." _It's hard keeping up with Gavin's many sides…_

"I'm not at liberty to discuss the particulars of the case. Especially not to the defense attorney," he said.

"What… did you just say? Me? The defense attorney?" I gasped, surprised.

"That what I came to tell you. He's down at the detention center. He wants to request your services," Gavin explained.

"He…? You mean Machi? Machi wants me…?" I asked. Trucy picked up her bowl, slurped down the rest of her food, then slammed the bowl down on the table decisively.

"This is what we've been waiting for, Polly! Let's get going!" she announced.

"Uh… right!" I gasped, finishing my own food quickly. Gavin smiled, standing.

"You might want to get dressed first. Good luck. I'm off to question Lamiroir," he said, leaving.

"R-right. Later!" I called after him. _I hope I'm up to this…_

After going home and getting ready for the day, we made it to the Detention Center, where Machi was lead to the visitor's room.

Questioning Machi didn't work. We couldn't even comfort the poor kid.

Machi didn't speak English.

 _I can't think of anything we can do but go with this… and hope for the best at the trial tomorrow…_

…

 **A/N:** I want someone to draw Trucy hiding under Polly's cape… I tried… and failed.

But the picture in my head is just… too freaking cute!

Actually, there's a lot of parts in this chapter that I want drawn, but this is the biggest, hehe.

By the way... SO. MUCH. JEALOUSY.


	24. AUTHOR'S NOTE 2

**A/N:** I am so sorry everyone! I know you're impatiently waiting the next chapter of this story, and believe me, it WILL be up tomorrow! But after that, I have to take a hiatus until September 25th.

The reason for this lies in my education. I just started a new class today, and the professor so helpfully put estimated times it'll take to do each assignment.

Long story short, I'm expected to do 50 hours of homework, on top of already working 40 hours a week. That's about 16.25 hours a day. Plus 8 to sleep, rounding it up to a beautiful 24.25 hours a day… so… there's my day in a nutshell this month. Homework, work, sleep.

So much for binge playing _Spirit of Justice_ next week.

Like I said though, I will still post the next chapter tomorrow. Reason for that is I am almost done it, and I have off work tomorrow. And as it is the first week of the class, it's pretty lenient with work.

Also, don't worry, if you want to PM me, I will still get back to you! Promise!

I'm sorry for going MIA in the middle of a case!

Love,

WingedEmerald1992


	25. The Siren

**NO SPOILERS IN THE REVIEW FOR _SPIRIT OF JUSTICE_. THEY WILL BE DELETED. THANK** **YOU.**

 **A/N:** Ugh… I'm sorry this is so late! I lied when I said there wasn't a lot of homework this week. *sob*

…

Chapter 21: The Siren

 _July_

"Court is now in session for… how do I say that?" the Judge began, before looking over at Gavin. We stood at our designated spots: Me and Trucy at the Defense, Gavin as Prosecution, Machi in the Defendant's chair, and Ema and Clay in the witness chairs, waiting for their turn at the stand.

"'Machi Tobaye,' You Honor. The Pixie of the Arpeggio," Gavin said, snapping his fingers.

"Right, his trial," the Judge said after a moment. "Court is in session!"

"The defense is ready, Your Honor," I said. _Not. I have no idea how to defend someone who doesn't speak English!_

"The prosecution is A-Okay, Herr Judge," Gavin said.

"Hmm… very well." The Judge turned to look at the blond. "Prosecutor Gavin."

"Ah, my opening statement, ja?" Gavin asked, looking up at the judge.

"No, no, actually…" he hesitated, seeming thoughtful. "There was something else I wanted to ask you about…"

Gavin actually looked surprised, but he quickly covered it up with a smile. "Yes?" he asked.

"Say you're going to visit someone in the hospital with an incurable disease… what do you say to them?" the Judge asked.

"Eh?" Gavin asked, looking more and more confused.

"I mean, you wouldn't say 'get well soon,' right? You'd only be kicking them when they're down…" the Judge continued, as though Gavin hadn't interrupted.

"Um, what are you talking about?" I asked, concerned for our Judge's family. He cleared his throat.

"Actually, I'm going to visit someone who is terminally ill… right after this trial," the Judge admitted. "The Chief Justice's son."

"The Chief Justice…?" I asked.

"His son is afflicted with a most terrible disease… He doesn't have long, it seems." I noticed the glassy look in the man's eyes, and his low tone of voice as he said this.

"Ah…" I muttered softly.

"So I thought I'd go pay him a visit. I thought saying something moving might be the order of the day," the Judge said as way of explaining his questions. Trucy huffed, glancing sidelong at me.

"Why don't grown-ups ever just say what's on their mind instead of pretending?" she demanded. I rose an eyebrow at her, recognizing the look of disgust on her face.

"Hey! What did I ever do?" I hissed back.

"In any case… I'm a bit busy today, so let's wrap this up quickly," the Judge said without waiting for an answer. "Prosecutor Gavin, your opening statement, briefly!"

"You're in luck, Herr Judge," Gavin said with a smile. "I believe you'll be going on your hospital visit sooner than you think." My head snapped around quickly to look at the prosecutor, spotting the confident smirk on his face. "First, to review the victim in this case. Romein LeTouse, age thirty-five. The global manager for diva songstress, Lamiroir. The cause of death: blood loss due to being shot by a large caliber revolver. This report has all the details," Gavin announced, holding the autopsy report up. A bailiff brought both me and the judge copies, and I quickly glanced through it, though I already knew what it said.

".45-caliber… that's quite large, isn't it? A direct hit from that could knock a man off his feet," the Judge said.

"However, the bullet struck him in his shoulder," Gavin reminded us. "The damage to his body was slight. Death was not immediate. Sadly, his blood loss was such that he could not be saved." As he spoke, a picture of the crime scene appeared on the screen before LeTouse's body had been moved.

"Hmm… I suppose the victim's condition could have been much worse, considering," the Judge mused as I made notes on the picture.

"Two shots were fired," Gavin continued. One shot missed, the other penetrated and passed through the victim's shoulder. Both bullets were found in the wall at the scene. Observe the diagram…" A diagram of Lamiroir's dressing room appeared on the screen. Two, small 'x's marked the wall right near the door. "This is where the bullets hit."

"I see…" the Judge hummed. "The court accepts this evidence." I wrote that down quickly as well.

"If we're talking about a .45-caliber revolver… we must assume that the killer was adept at the weapon's use," the Judge said.

"Really?" Trucy asked me softly. I nodded.

"Remember what Ema said. Weapons that size have a powerful kickback. If, say, the judge tried to fire one, it'd break every bone in his body," I explained.

"The defense will take more care in choosing examples!" the Judge snapped, causing me to jump. I hadn't realized how loud I was…

"As I was saying," Gavin said with a small smirk, "the victim was shot backstage, in a dressing room. The dressing room has only one entrance: this door." He used a laser pointer to indicate the door to the dressing room on the diagram.

"That does seem to be the case, yes," the Judge said.

"However, there were witnesses who heard the gunshots," Gavin continued.

"Clay and Ema, right?" Trucy said. I nodded.

"Yet when the witnesses entered the room… it was empty, save for the victim's body, of course."

"B-but that's… that's _impossible!_ " the Judge gasped.

"Exactly. This murder was _impossible…_ for all but one person," Gavin said gravely.

"One person?" the Judge asked.

"That is, of course… the defendant, Machi Tobaye."

"Only this defendant could have committed the crime? But how?" the Judge asked.

"It's quite simple. The circumstances of the crime scene make it clear," Gavin said.

"Very well, I assume you have testimony to back up this claim. Let the witness please take the stand!" the Judge announced. Ema stood from her seat and stepped to the stand.

"Your name and profession, please," Klavier said.

"Ema Skye, I'm a detective for the police department. I was on security detail at the concert forum that night," Ema huffed. I frowned slightly, noticing a dragged down quality to her voice.

 _Ema seems… tired, somehow._

"Hmm… security at the concert, you say?" the Judge asked. Ema scoffed at herself.

"Some security I was. Couldn't even stop a murder…" she muttered bitterly, and I understood the exhaustion now.

"Now, don't blame yourself!" the Judge said quickly. "Things like this happen! I've made even bigger mistakes in my career, you know!" the Judge said quickly. I felt sweat run down the side of my face.

 _I'm sure that makes her feel much better… It really put me at ease…_ I thought sarcastically.

"I want to hear about these bigger mistakes!" Trucy said brightly. I groaned softly, shaking my head at her.

"In any case…" Gavin said. "Because you were on security detail, the crime was quickly discovered. And, we were able to identify the killer," he said. I wondered if that was his way of trying to make her feel better. Ema's shoulder's sagged more. Gavin sighed softly. "You may give the court your testimony, if you would. Describe the circumstanced of that day, and your discovery of the crime, please," Gavin said. Ema looked up.

"Alright," she sighed. "The night of the murder, I was on security backstage, at Prosecutor Gavin's request. Only people involved with the concert in some way were allowed backstage. At the beginning of the third set... I heard shots. I went into the room, filled with blaring rock music, and found the body. I examined the scene and determined that only the defendant could have done it," she concluded.

"Hmm… it was lucky that a detective was the first on the scene," the Judge said.

"But that door was the only way out of the room, right?" Trucy asked.

"That's the way it seems," I said.

"Then I don't get it. How can they say that _Machi_ did it?" Trucy demanded.

"Looks like we need a bit more information," I said with a grin at her. She smiled back.

"Very well, the defense may begin the cross-examination," the Judge said. I nodded, going over her testimony again.

"The night of the murder was the night of the concert, yes?" I asked, even though I already knew this. It was simply for the sake of the record.

"That's right," Ema said.

"What was a detective doing on security detail, might I ask? If it was only a concert?"

"My thoughts exactly," Ema huffed. "But, orders are orders. Even when they come from rock gods."

"Prosecutor Gavin…?" I asked, turning to the man. I could see annoyance showing on his face.

"Yes, allow me to explain," he said. "I smelled something that day, you might say. The stench… of conspiracy. That day, at the concert hall."

"Conspiracy…?" I asked, dreading where this was going. He scowled at me.

"Well, Herr Forehead! You were there, remember!? My keys! That whole morning, no, the whole day was ruined!" I pinched the bridge of my nose, letting him rant himself out. "And all because someone stole my keys! I couldn't ride my hog to the show, I couldn't open my guitar case…" he seethed.

"There he goes again," Trucy sighed.

"Isn't it possible he simply misplaced them?" I asked ironically, knowing that to not be the case. Gavin didn't appreciate my joke.

"Misplaced them!?" he demanded. "Misplaced items don't just wander into a murder victim's hand on their own!" He froze, his eyes widening slightly as he realized his slip of the tongue.

"What's this!?" the Judge gasped. "Prosecutor Gavin, if your keys were in the victim's hand… that makes you a prime suspect!"

"…'Love, slow-acting and new. Atroquinine… is waiting for you'…" Gavin sang softly to himself. I groaned at the fact that I actually _recognized_ the song…

"He's singing something," Trucy said.

…and that apparently Trucy didn't.

"Does everything with this guy have to be so over-the-top?" I muttered.

"The killing happened in the middle of my concert," Gavin reminded the court. "I was… like a sailor, adrift on a sea of sound." He shook his head. "Anyway, I didn't want anything else stolen. So I put the detective with the most time on their hands on the task."

 _We might be something akin to friends now… but Gavin's still an ass._

"I see. I can accept that," the Judge said.

"Well I can't! What do you mean 'time on their hands'!?" Ema demanded.

"You said, in your testimony, only people involved with the concert were allowed backstage… yet Mr. Clay Terran and Trucy Wright were allowed in," I pointed out, heading off her argument about her lack of time.

"I didn't know about that!" Ema snapped. "I certainly didn't invite them."

"I gave the Fräulein special permission to be there… I wanted to see her again," Gavin said with a smirk.

"Oh boy!" Trucy gasped. "Did you hear that? We're officially involved now!"

"No. You're not," I said with narrowed eyes at Gavin. Part of me knew he was joking, but I still felt a surge of over-protectiveness.

"Some other hangers-on tried to get backstage, but I drove them off," Ema said, regaining my attention.

 _So, no other 'outsiders' were there, then…_ I reasoned.

"What were you doing when you heard the shots?" I asked.

"Snacking. Your buddy there was chatting," Ema said, pulling out a bag of Snackoos.

"Ah!" the Judge gasped. "Hey! No snacking in court!"

"And you're sure the shots came from Lamiroir's room?" I asked.

"Of course! I've only said it a million times," Ema snapped. "Here, this'll keep you from asking dumb questions," she said, throwing a Snackoo at me. I managed to catch it.

"Ah, thanks," I said distractedly. "So – _munch—_ how about it – _munch—_ Ema?" I asked.

"It's hard – _munch—_ to mistake it – _munch_ —when we were right there," Ema said.

"Please, either talk, or eat. Not both at the same time!" the Judge commanded. Ema swallowed her mouthful.

"Right, so after that… me and Mr. Visor over there—" she motioned towards Clay "—opened the dressing room door."

"Rock music filled the dressing room at the time of the crime?" I asked.

"Blaring, yes," Ema said.

"When you say 'rock,' are you referring, perhaps… to this 'rock 'n' roll' music that's so popular these days?" the Judge asked.

 _Gavin piped sounds from the stage into the backstage through speakers so the people in the back can hear when they're supposed to be on stage…_ I remembered.

"When we walked into the room… the band was playing 'Guilty Love,' I believe. Making it easy to determine the time of the crime," Ema said.

"Hmm… if you could hear that music playing…" the Judge began.

"…Then everyone on stage for that song has an alibi. Including myself," Gavin said.

"Anyways, I closed off the scene and started my investigation," Ema said.

"How, with just an initial investigation, could you know Machi was the only one who could commit the murder?" I demanded.

"As I said, it was clear from the circumstances," Ema began. "Listen... We know there was only one exit from the room: that door. The small window only opened a tiny crack. And I was standing in front of that door. So, how could the killer have fled the scene? There's only one possibility: the air vent."

"Ah…" the Judge gasped.

" _Objection!_ " I yelled, picturing the air vent in my mind's eye. "But that air vent was too small!" I reminded her. "Who could possibly…" I trailed off, realizing I just made her argument for her.

"Exactly," Ema said. "There's certainly no way you could get through there. Nor me. The only one who could fit through there… was a child."

"A child…" I mused, glancing sidelong over at Trucy, remembering the joke I made.

"Remember, access to those rooms was limited," Ema asserted. "Only those involved with the concert were allowed."

"And of all the people involved with the concert," Gavin began, picking up the argument. "Only one is small enough to be considered a 'child.'"

"The defendant!?" the Judge gasped.

"The pixie of the arpeggio flitted up toward the sky… and disappeared from the scene of the crime," Gavin said, shaking his head.

" _Objection!_ " I yelled, my voice cracking slightly. I was a little desperate. "B-but that's just conjecture!"

"Oh?" Gavin asked. "There was no other way out of that room. You've seen it. You should know, Herr Forehead," Gavin said. I ground my teeth together, knowing he was right.

"And… there is another vital piece of evidence," Ema admitted.

"Evidence…? What!?" I gasped.

"Marks were found on the air vent grill. Traces that it had recently been opened," Ema said. I flinched slightly.

 _Yes, but that wasn't Machi – that was Uncle Val—_

"And something else was found, quite clearly. The defendant, Machi Tobaye's fingerprints," Ema concluded.

"Wha… whaaaaaaaat!?" I gasped, lurching back. The galley erupted into muttering.

"Order! Order! Order!" the Judge demanded.

"The air vent was the only way out of the room! The defendant's fingerprints were found on the grill!" Gavin snapped. "Well, Herr Forehead? What fairy tale does this suggest to you?"

"Urk…" I muttered.

"Only one could pass through that vent, that 'doorway to heaven'… and that one is our pixie," Gavin concluded. I stayed silent, putting my magician's mind to work.

Was there another way out of that room? Another mystery behind this 'disappearing act'? Unfortunately, I didn't see one.

But… this couldn't be the end… right? This can't be the only answer…

"I believe that's enough of that," the Judge finally said. I looked up at him in surprise. "The prosecution has a rather convincing case. The only way in and out of the crime scene was watched. Making the defendant the only one who could possibly leave the scene. Simple, and decisive."

"Ugh…" I groaned softly.

"I believe we've heard enough to determine our verdict. Even if I wasn't in a hurry to make a hospital visit," the Judge said.

"I'm sure the Chief Justice will appreciate the gesture. Unfortunately, we have no direct witnesses. Fortunately, the criminal left decisive evidence for us. That will have to be enough," Gavin said.

 _Argh! It can't be over already!_ I thought frantically. I quickly scanned the courtroom… and my eyes fell on Clay, who was waving slightly at me. I gave him a 'what?' look, and he pointed first from himself, then to the stand.

It hit me like a .45-caliber bullet.

"Very well, I believe this trial is finished. If the defense has no contradicting evidence?" the Judge asked.

" _Hold it!_ " I demanded. "I do have one question for the Prosecution," I said with a smirk, crossing my arms.

"What is it, Herr Forehead?" Gavin asked.

"Why did you prepare another witness if you had no intention of using him?" I asked. "Mr. Clay Terran was removed from the scene the night of the murder, taken to the precinct, and now he sits in the witness retaining area." I looked up at the Judge. "Clearly, Mr. Terran saw something different from Detective Skye." I slammed my fists down on the bench in front of me, before pointing at Clay. "The defense demands to hear from _all_ of the witnesses. To declare a verdict now would be a gross miscarriage of justice!"

The Judge gasped. "That's right! And we can't have that…" he sighed. "But the Chief Justice…"

"With all due respect, Your Honor, I feel the Chief Justice would understand if you were late in your visit due to doing your job correctly," I said, trying to emulate the cool demeanor of a certain one of Dad's rivals used when talking the Judge over to his side.

It worked.

"Very well. The current witness may step down, and the next take her place!"

Ema stepped away from the witness stand, and Clay stepped up to it in her stead.

"Name and occupation," Gavin said. He didn't seem the slightest annoyed or upset at my prolonging the trial. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying it.

"Clay Terran; Astronaut in training at the Cosmos Space Center," Clay said with a smile, adjusting his visor. I smiled slightly.

"Alright, Mr. Terran. Why don't you tell us what you saw the night of the murder?" the Judge said. Clay nodded, gathering his thoughts.

"I was invited to the concert by Apollo – er, Mr. Wright—who was helping out. His sister really wanted to go, but wasn't allowed to by herself. During the third set, I needed a break, and went backstage, where I talked to the detective. We heard gunshots, but… Mr. LeTouse was already bleeding out. He gave me a message with his last breath," Clay said.

"Mr. Wright!" the Judge gasped. "You were helping with the concert?"

"Mostly effects and stunts that required a magician's touch, Your Honor," I said.

"But that means… you were there, and you could go backstage!" the Judge said.

"Making me a suspect?" I asked. He nodded. "To be honest, Your Honor, during 'Guilty Love,' I was in the wings, trying to fix one of the effect machines before the next song. Any of the stage hands could attest to that," I said.

"Oh…" the Judge seemed crestfallen. I shook my head slightly at him.

 _Why is he trying to get us convicted today…?_ I thought, glancing at Gavin, who had an amused look on his face.

"Well, at any rate, the defense can now cross-examine the witness," the Judge said. I nodded, looking at Clay.

"So, during the first and second sets of the concert, you were in the audience?" I asked. Clay nodded.

"Yeah. I couldn't tell you what they played during the first set, though, to be honest. The lights were _way_ too bright, and the music too loud. The second set though, with the 'Guitar Serenade'… that was beautiful," he said. I smiled slightly at that.

"Is Lamiroir really that good?" the Judge asked.

"She's the best singer I'd ever heard," I immediately replied. Everyone was silent for a moment, looking at me. I bit my lip, rubbing the top of my head. "What!?" I demanded.

"You were a little quick to jump to her defense, Herr Forehead," Gavin said with a smirk, leaning over forward slightly. I rolled my eyes.

"Excuse me for having taste in music," I muttered. Clay snickered at that, shaking his head, and I decided to steer the conversation back to the point. "The light and noise was why you skipped out on the third set?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"What did you and Detective Skye discuss?" I asked. A sly smirk spread across Clay's face: one I recognized as someone who followed through on a plot that I would reap the consequences of. My formality melted away. "What did you do, Clay?" I demanded. His smirk widened.

"Nothing, Polly. Nothing pertaining to the case."

"Is that true, Detective Skye?" the Judge asked. I quickly looked over at her, noticing a slight flush across her cheeks.

"Um, yeah," she muttered.

"Then carry on," the Judge said. I shot Clay a look that clearly stated 'later,' before thinking back to the testimony.

"How long after you heard the shots did you enter the room?" I asked.

"Instantly," Clay admitted.

"Did you see _anyone_? Anyone at all?" I demanded. Clay sighed softly.

"No. There's no way anyone could have gotten past me or Ema through the door," he said.

 _Damn... wait!_ I thought, remembering the last bit of his testimony.

"The victim gave you a message?" I gasped. Clay nodded, shivering slightly at remembering.

"It was with his dying breath. His last words… 'The witness… is Siren.'"

"'Siren'?" I asked, confused. Clay nodded.

"Yes, I'm sure of it," he insisted, before biting his lip. "Plus, while I was trying to keep him awake while Ema got backup… I'm sure I heard the door open, then close again."

" _What!?_ " Gavin gasped, slamming the wall behind him with his fist. "Why didn't you mention this before!?" he demanded.

"I forgot about it until this moment!" Clay said defensively. He squeezed the wood of the witness stand with his left hand, and my bracelet grew tight. My senses sharpened to focus on his hand, Perceiving his unconscious tell, and I knew he was lying.

He remembered that detail from the beginning. I didn't have to question Clay about it: I knew him too well. I knew he kept it from the police. He wanted to tell me first, probably because he feared how the cops would twist that.

Part of me wished he had said something though…

Gavin sighed, shaking his head. "This means nothing. The sound was heard _after_ the murder, and the defendant's fingerprints was still found on the grate," he said. I slammed my fists down onto the bench in front of me.

"I am, however, interested in the victim's last words. He named a witness to his murder!" I said.

"He did…?" the Judge asked, surprised.

"Yes. 'The Siren.'" Realization struck. "That could only mean one person! The 'Siren of the Ballad,' Lamiroir! Lamiroir was only on stage for the second set," I reminded the court. "And she had access to the backstage area. She could have been a witness: Mr. LeTouse's dying words confirm this. This contradicts your claims of no direct witnesses!" I announced, pointing at Gavin.

"I see… well, Prosecutor Gavin?" the Judge asked.

"My claim still stands. There were no witnesses to this crime!" Gavin asserted.

"Very well!" the Judge said. "Let's hear it from the horse's mouth then, shall we? Please show Lamiroir to the witness stand."

The bailiff left the courtroom.

 _Lamiroir would say nothing the night of the murder. This is probably why! Today, though, we'll drag that story out of her no matter what it is!_

"It is my distinct honor to welcome the Siren of the Ballad to our courtroom," Gavin said once the woman stood at the witness stand.

"You are too kind," she said, her eyes flickering in his direction.

"Ah, y-you can speak English?" the Judge gasped, surprised.

"Yes… yes I can. Though I am not very good," she admitted. "There is much I do not know."

"You speak so well!" the Judge replied. "Have you spend time here before?"

"Actually, I do not know how I came by my knowledge of your language. Nor where I studied it…"

 _What does she mean, she doesn't know…?_

"I, too, thought to call her as a witness. But I did not. I had a reason, of course," Gavin said.

"What's that?" I demanded.

"Lamiroir… suffers from amnesia."

"Amnesia?" the Judge asked.

"Lamiroir is not my true name. Yet I remember nothing of the time before I was given it. Nothing of the time before I started singing on stage," the woman explained.

"Whoa! She's even more mysterious than I thought!" Trucy breathed, and I nodded. For all my working alongside her, Machi, and LeTouse… there was a lot I didn't know about those three.

"As lauded singer Lamiroir, she lives a good life. There are little difficulties for her, thanks to her success," Gavin said. "Yet, I did not wish to subject her to unnecessary stress," he added.

"Hmm… I see. I care surprisingly little about people's pasts. You have nothing to fear in this court, Lamiroir," the Judge said.

"Thank you. Yet there is something I do not understand. I am being called as a witness? What might I say? No one will tell me anything of what happened…" she sighed.

"Lamiroir, let me be frank. I did not want to ask you up there to testify. Yet, the little magician over there was adamant that you stand," Gavin said, throwing the blame on me. I scowled at him.

"Oh my…" Lamiroir gasped.

"Congratulations, Polly. You're the bad guy!" Trucy said brightly.

"Ugh…" I groaned.

"Well, now that you're here, please give us your testimony," the Judge said. "If nothing else, the sound of your voice is welcome."

 _He doesn't know how true that is for me…_

"Tell us what you saw the night of the crime!"

"As for what I saw… I saw nothing," Lamiroir started. "That night, I was invited to sing on stage, and this I did. I did not return backstage after the second set. Then I was led by the police to Mr. Gavin's dressing room, and told to wait there. That was where I learned that something had happened… but I wasn't told the details," she concluded.

"Hmm… I must say, you sound wonderful just testifying," the Judge sighed, his eyes closed. I wiped some of the sweat from the back of my neck.

 _I hope he was too distracted to hear what she was actually saying…_

"There you have it. She saw nothing that night. Now we can only pray that the defense has the sense to admit defeat… and refrain from detaining her here longer than need be," Gavin said with a smirk in my direction.

"Wow, you just badder, Polly! Way to go!" Trucy said brightly, while I clenched my fists, growling softly.

"Very well, Mr. Wright. Keep it short and sweet!" the Judge commanded.

 _Lamiroir wouldn't talk to me the night of the crime. She must know something, and I've got to find out what!_ I thought as I sifted through her testimony. Only one part stood out like a sore thumb.

"You said you didn't return backstage after the second set. Not once?" I asked.

"Right," she replied.

"Where were you then? What were you doing?" I asked.

"I was cleaning up on stage. There are many things I must do for a performance other than simply sing. As a performer yourself, Mr. Wright, you should know this."

"True…" I hummed. "And was Machi with you at the time?"

"Unfortunately, I do not know where he was…" Lamiroir said, looking away. I sighed. _So much for an alibi for Machi… but that's not right. I was in the wings and didn't see her. But… I need proof…_ I dug through my evidence for a moment, before spotting something.

" _Objection!"_ I yelled. "I'm sorry, Lamiroir, but I'm having trouble believing you," I said. My words were met with silence, so I pulled out my evidence, found just inside the doorway to the crime scene. "You remember this brooch, do you not?" I asked.

"Why, that's Lamiroir's. She was wearing it for her song," Gavin said in surprise. I smirked, crossing my arms and looking at him.

"Care to add that to the testimony, Prosecutor Gavin?"

"Wh-what…?"

"This brooch was found _after_ the murder took place… at the very scene of the crime!" I announced.

"What!?" Gavin gasped, lurching back.

"Lamiroir. How did your brooch get backstage if you did not go there yourself?" I demanded. "And, as Prosecutor Gavin has just told us… you had been wearing it during your performance that night!" _That's right! It was part of my stage costume as well when I swapped places with her!_

Lamiroir stayed silent, her eyes widening.

"What is the meaning of this? Lamiroir, please explain!" the Judge pleaded.

More silence.

"Lamiroir?" I asked, only for her to say something in Borginese. Gavin tipped his head slightly.

"…She says, 'English is quite difficult,'" he interpreted. I frowned, slamming my fists down on the bench in front of me.

"That trick's not going to work here!" I snapped. She spoke again.

"'You might be a master magician, but you are also a lawyer, truly. But… you have missed one important fact.'" Gavin interpreted again. I glanced over at him.

 _Since when could he speak Borginese?_

"What now?" I asked.

"'In fact, at the time of the incident… I went backstage, but only for a moment.'"

"What!?" I gasped.

"'Think back to the last testimony. Mr. Terran mentioned it.' Wait, you don't mean-!?" Gavin gasped.

"Ah!" I gasped at the same time. "You mean when Mr. Terran heard the door open, then close?"

"Yes. I… looked into the room. Just a glance, mind you," Lamiroir said, finally speaking English again.

"So this is when your brooch dropped? That explains that," Gavin said.

"It does. There was no other time I could have dropped it," Lamiroir said.

 _That… seems wrong._

"That's ridiculous! You only looked in for an instant, but you dropped your brooch?" I asked. _There was another time she could have dropped it, wasn't there?_

"Herr Forehead," Gavin suddenly said. I looked up at him. "She has raised a possibility. The only thing that can counter that… is evidence," he reminded me.

"Hmm… so she looked in at the crime scene," the Judge mused.

"Actually, I intended to go into the dressing room. I knew nothing of what had happened, of course. But the moment I opened the door, I heard a horrible voice," she explained.

"Herr Terran shouting 'who's there!' no doubt. A horrible voice indeed," Gavin said with a grin.

"Hey!" Clay snapped from where he sat. I covered my mouth to hide my laughter.

"I closed the door immediately," she concluded.

"Well, that explains the brooch. Let's return to your testimony," the Judge said with a nod.

 _That's too convenient… she's hiding something, but what!?_ "Lamiroir! You did look into the room though, right?" I demanded.

"Y-yes…" she answered.

"Testify as to what you saw!"

"Very well. Though it was only the briefest of glimpses," she warned. "When my performance was finish, I went backstage for just a moment…"

I let that one slide, seeing nothing of value in it.

"I saw nothing. The late Mr. LeTouse's body was behind a wall," she said.

I felt my bracelet pulse around my wrist. My focus sharpened on her, on her throat.

"Could you repeat that once more?" I asked.

"Um. Alright. I saw nothing. The late Mr. LeTouse's body—"

" _Gotcha!"_ I called as I noticed her throat constrict slightly on those words. "'The late Mr. LeTouse's body,' you say?"

"Yes…?" she said in confusion.

"You know something more about Mr. LeTouse's death than you are saying," I said.

"What…?" she asked.

"I could see you trying not to remember… but the effort made you _swallow!_ " I pointed out. "You can't fool my eyes."

Lamiroir gasped, before looking away. "It is true," she admitted. "It was so terrible, after all. Why did Mr. LeTouse have to be shot?" she asked. An alarm went off in my head.

"One moment, Lamiroir," I said.

"Yes?" she asked.

"What was that you just said? 'Why did Mr. LeTouse have to be shot?'"

"Yes…?"

 _She was hiding something! I know it!_ Lamiroir, I'm afraid you haven't realized it, but… your words just now contradict your testimony!" I announced.

"Eh? How could that be?" she asked.

 _Take this! Lamiroir contradicted her own testimony, and I have the evidence to prove it!_ I thought, pulling out a document.

"Tell me, Lamiroir… How did you know he had been shot?" I asked.

"Eh, well, I…" she muttered.

"Immediately following the incident, a _gag order_ was placed on the scene. This is the document proving that," I said, presenting it. "In your testimony, you told the court 'no one told me anything about the incident.'"

"Ah…"

"Furthermore, you testified that you had 'seen nothing,'" I added. Her eyes widened. "Yet you knew that Mr. LeTouse _had been shot!_ How could you have known!?" I demanded.

"Lamiroir! You aren't hiding something from this court, I hope!" the Judge gasped. She didn't answer, and I crossed my arms.

 _That sweet song of hers was sounding a little too sweet!_

"Ah, now I remember. Please… allow me to add to my testimony," Lamiroir pleaded.

"She looks kind of pale, huh?" Trucy muttered. I nodded.

"She saw something. Clay wasn't lying. The victim said so!" I replied.

"I saw bullet holes in the wall, and knew Mr. LeTouse had been shot," Lamiroir said. I shook my head.

"Lamiroir. They call you the Siren of the Ballad… but lies are hardly becoming of such a creature," I said.

"A put-down worth of our prosecutor, Mr. Wright," the Judge gasped, sounding surprised.

"Such put-downs are hardly becoming of you, Polly," Trucy added.

"Stop polishing your forehead and start polishing your character, ja?" Gavin added. I sighed, my spikes drooping.

 _C'mon, can't I be cool for once!?_ I demanded silently, before pointing to the screens in the courtroom. "Observe the diagram!" I said. It appeared on the monitor. "Lamiroir, you looked in from the door for just a moment. Correct?" I asked.

"Y-yes, that is so," she replied.

"There were bullet holes in the room, yes," I said. "But they were in the wall the door is on!"

"Eh…" Lamiroir muttered.

"You see?" I said. "Assuming you mrely glanced into the room… you couldn't have seen those bullet holes!"

"No!" she gasped.

"Lamiroir…" the Judge said after a moment.

"Y-yes?" she asked.

"I'm afraid the defense has raised a good point. It appears you have been holding back something," the Judge said.

"And I must tell you? I must tell you what it is that I saw?" she asked.

"Yes. The happenings in this trial are being recorded. And I'm certain it will be on the news in Borginia. You understand your reputation is at stake. It falls to you to avoid tarnishing it," the Judge explained, appealing to her performer's mind.

"Personally speaking, I still believe that cross-examining her will yield us absolutely nothing," Gavin said.

"But she knew how Mr. LeTouse died! And he named her as a witness!" I pointed out before looking at the woman. "You must have seen something, Lamiroir!"

"Very well. Lamiroir… please continue your testimony," the Judge said.

"Very well. I shall." She took a deep breath. "I was on my way from the stage to the backstage exit. There was something like a little window there... That's how I saw it. There were two shots... I couldn't do anything to stop it. But it wasn't Machi! It was a grown person! ...I know it was!" she said. I took a deep breath, crossing my arms with a scowl.

"So you did witness the crime! And the killer was… a grown person, you say?" the Judge asked.

"Ach! This is my first time hearing this, I assure you," Gavin all but snarled. "Nice play, Herr Forehead."

"Very well, Herr… er, Mr. Wright. You may begin your cross-examination!" the Judge said.

"Great going, Polly! You were right about Lamiroir…" she trailed off, taking in my scowl. "What's wrong? You don't look too happy…"

 _This whole thing smells fishy… that's what's wrong,_ I thought.

"So you were heading towards the dressing room?" I asked.

"Yes."

 _So this is a little before she opened the dressing room door and dropped her brooch. About the same time Ema and Clay heard those shots._

"So, what exactly is 'something like a little window'?" I asked.

"Yes, well… 'window' is the best word I know in English. I think this is how it is said, yes," she muttered in uncertainty.

"You need not worry, Lamiroir. Your choice of words is impeccable. There is a small window in the dressing room in question. Perhaps the defense remembers this detail?" Gavin asked.

 _That little window on the wall…_

"I er, saw the crime from there," Lamiroir continued. My bracelet vibrated slightly, but I couldn't spot any tells, so I left it for now.

"Are you certain you heard two shots fired?" I asked.

"Yes, quite certain. I was on my way to the backstage exit. This was when I heard a faint sound… like a gunshot. Wondering what it had been, I peered through the window. That is when I heard the second gunshot, much closer.

 _And there were two bullet holes at the scene. No contradictions so far…_

"It all happened on the other side of that window. There was nothing I could do," she sighed sadly.

"Are you sure it wasn't Machi who shot?" I asked.

"Yes, quite certain," she said. Gavin suddenly laughed.

"It amuses me that you would question her testimony. It is testimony in your favor! Isn't it my job to object?" he asked.

"Yeah, Apollo, what were you thinking!?" Trucy demanded.

"Trucy… let's just listen to what Lamiroir has to say," I told her before looking back at the woman. "Can you tell me how you were so sure?"

"Yes, of course. You see… I know the shooter was a man. A young man," she said.

"And you're sure of that?" the Judge asked.

"Yes. His voice was quite clear," Lamiroir said.

"Voice?" I asked.

"Hmm…" the Judge glanced at the diagram that was still on the monitor. "Looking at this diagram, it seems the dressing room was quite cluttered. It does seem likely that you wouldn't have had a clear view of the shooter," he said.

"As a singer, I rely more on my ears than my eyes. When I hear a voice, I do not forget it. That voice… was the voice of a man," Lamiroir insisted.

"So you heard a voice," Gavin said. "But wait… couldn't that have been the victim, Mr. LeTouse?"

"Absolutely not. Did I not just say that I do not forget a voice? If it was Mr. LeTouse who spoke, I would have known," she said.

"Hmm… indeed. So you were at the window, and you heard the shooter's voice, the voice of a young man," the Judge summed up.

"Polly! This is a good testimony! That proves it wasn't Machi!" Trucy said brightly. I frowned, more, closing my eyes.

"Indeed… if this turns out to be true, it would cast this case in a considerably different light. What is the defense's opinion of this testimony?" the Judge asked. I sighed. I could easily say it was good, we should take it at face value… but Gavin would almost definitely catch me on my bluff.

Besides, something about it just felt… wrong.

"Though it pains me to say this…" I sighed. "There's something about Lamiroir's testimony that rings false," I said. Lamiroir's eyes widened at that.

"Heh. Bravo, Herr Forehead. You're colder than I thought," Gavin said with a grin. I narrowed my eyes at him

 _I'm sure you remember what the problem is as well as I do, Gavin_. "As has been established… no grown man could pass through that air vent. He couldn't have fled the scene of the crime," I reminded the court.

"B-but that means Lamiroir has to be lying!" Trucy gasped.

"I know, and I know it's bad for our case, but I can't shut my eyes to this," I told her. _Believe me, the idea was tempting…_

"It is as Herr Forehead says. Yet, this is not the only contradiction within her testimony," Gavin added.

"Wh-what next!?" I demanded. _What's he talking about!?_

"Lamiroir. I understand why you would want to protect Machi. Yet remember, you are the Siren of the Ballad… and lies to not become such a creature," Gavin said.

"What does the prosecution mean!?" the Judge asked.

"Polly! What's he talking about!?" Trucy demanded.

 _How come no one bats an eye when he says stuff like that!?_

"I recall the state of the crime scene quite well," Gavin said.

"The state of the room?" I asked.

"Yes, and when the murder took place… that window was _closed._ I find it hard to believe you could hear a voice through it," Gavin explained.

"What!?" Lamiroir gasped. "B-but I… I'm sure…"

"Lamiroir. I have nothing but the highest regard for your musical sense. But… my opinion of you as a witness is somewhat lesser," Gavin said.

" _Objection!_ " I yelled. "B-but she's the only eye-witness we have!" I countered.

" _Objection!_ " Gavin snapped. "So you say. And the victim named her, the 'Siren' as the witness?"

"That's right! Mr. Terran knows what he heard—"

"We heard his claim. We even entertained the possibility. And it brought us to this. Herr Judge!"

"Yes?" the Judge asked.

"The prosecution requests that the witness… be excused. Please."

"Hmm… I'm afraid I must honor the prosecution's request. There is indeed a question of the witness's credibility," the Judge said.

"B-but if Lamiroir can't testify…" I muttered.

"Then we don't have a chance of proving Machi's innocence," Trucy finished.

"This cross-examination is over! Prosecutor Gavin. You may continue making your case," the Judge said.

"Danke. Now, where were we? Ah yes, I would like to hear from Fräulein Detective again," he said.

" _Objection!_ " I yelled. "Wait! Let me hear Lamiroir's testimony one last time…" I pleaded.

"But the cross-examination is already over," the Judge said. "Until such a time as a need arises… this witness may leave the stand."

"I'm sorry I could not be of more assistance…" Lamiroir said softly as she walked away.

"At last, back to the real trial. Ready, Herr Forehead?" Gavin asked with a smirk. I glared at him.

 _I really hope I didn't just miss my only chance…_ I thought as Ema stepped back up to the stand.

"Fräulein Detective, how far had we gotten until we were so rudely interrupted?" Gavin asked. Ema scowled.

"Don't ask me!" she snapped. I smiled slightly at that.

"I dislike saying the same thing twice. And I never repeat a song for an encore," Gavin replied.

"If you would, Ms. Skye," the Judge sighed.

"Hmph. I believe I was saying that the only way Mr. LeTouse's killer could have escaped… was through that air vent on the ceiling," Ema said.

"Ah, yes, there was only one door in the room. And two witnesses, you and Mr. Terran, were standing in front of it," the Judge added.

"That air vent isn't very big, see. Kind of limits the people who could possibly get through there," Ema said.

"I certainly would have a difficult time," the Judge said.

"You sure would. Not that you would have been there in the first place, though. Remember, the whole backstage area was off-limits to people not involved with the concert. The only one who meets the conditions for out killer… is the defendant," Ema explained.

"A virtuoso performance! I couldn't have put it better myself," Gavin said with a smile.

"Hmm. She does state a clear case. Though, reading the report, something caught my eye," the Judge said, scanning the paper in front of him.

"Oh? What's that?" Gavin asked.

"The _circumstances_ of the defendant's arrest."

"The circumstances?" I asked.

"Hey, that's right, Polly! Remember when we found Machi? That was bizarre!" Trucy said.

 _She's right… why did Mr. LeTouse's body disappear from the room…and end up on the stage tower with Crescend's guitar?_

"A perceptive observation, Herr Judge," Gavin said with a smile.

"Ah, er, thanks!" the Judge said, clearly flattered. "It was kind of an accident, really. But when you work in this job long enough… you get a nose for things, eh he he."

"The judge sure seems pleased with himself!" Trucy giggled.

"Very good, Fräulein Detective. Perhaps you can tie it all together for us. Why was the body moved? And how does that lead us to the killer?" Gavin demanded.

"I believe Machi stole the body because of some lyrics," she began. "He moved the body to match Lamiroir's song. No one in this country had a motive to kill the victim. And, Machi practically left his signature at the scene. All of this evidence clearly points to the defendant."

"That's right…" I breathed, having forgot, for the moment, about 'The Guitar Serenade.'

"Lamiroir's song?" the Judge asked.

"All the events that day followed the lyrics to our song. First, the keys my 'heart' held on to so tightly were stolen," he began as a picture of his keyring appeared on screen.

"Then Prosecutor Gavin's guitar burst into flames on stage. Mr. LeTouse's life was taken by a bullet," I added. A picture of Gavin's flaming guitar appeared on screen, followed by a picture of the crime scene.

"The rest hardly needs explanation. 'Guitar, guitar… up together to the sky,'" Gavin finished.

"Th-that's mad! It's like a story out of some fairy tale!" the Judge gasped.

"Hey! You know I was the one who first noticed that!" Trucy reminded us.

"I've heard of jumping rope to songs, and counting to songs… but killing!?" the Judge asked.

"It's a wild world out there, Herr Judge," Gavin said with a grin.

"Very well! We've heard one song and dance… let's get on to the next: the cross-examination!" the Judge said.

 _I'm not sure I'm going to be doing much singing…_

"So, does the prosecution have any idea why the killer would go to such lengths for this crime?" I asked.

"You want my scientific opinion? 'No clue.' But, he clearly had a reason to go through all that trouble. Some deep reason," Ema said.

"A deep reason?" I asked.

"Not only did he steal my keys, he torched my guitar!" Gavin snapped, losing his cool momentarily. I sighed at that. "Unforgivable acts even if he had a reason… and worse if he had none!"

"The diva's complaints aside, I can't imagine someone doing this on 'just a whim,'" Ema added. I coughed slightly to hide my laughter.

"Fräulein Detective! I take offense at that description!" Gavin complained. I had to try even harder not to laugh.

"Indeed, it does seem too well rehearsed, shall we say," the Judge agreed.

"Yes. This crime was planned for sure," Ema added.

"You say no one in this country had motive to kill the victim, but he spoke English. He may have come to this country before!" I said.

"I looked into that, I assure you," Ema said, shooting me down.

"Oh."

"It was his first time in the country, it seems. Apparently, he learned English on his own," Ema explained.

 _Great…_

"You see? No one here had a motive to kill him, and certainly not in such an elaborate fashion," Gavin said.

"Hmm… it does seem difficult to imagine…" the Judge said.

"Right. So what did you mean by Machi's 'signature'?" I asked.

"The bullet holes in the wall, of course," Ema said.

"The bullet holes…?" I asked.

"The revolver was fired twice. One shot missed, and left a hole in the wall," Ema said.

"And that means what, exactly?" asked the Judge.

"That dressing room isn't exactly spacious. Picture the shooter facing off with the victim in there. They can't have been more than five feet apart. It would be difficult, almost impossible to miss at that range," Ema explained.

"Difficult to miss, you say?" the Judge asked.

"Very. Assuming the shooter could properly aim," Ema added.

"No! Y-you can't be serious…" I gasped.

"Machi! He can't see… that's why he missed?" Trucy asked.

"It's the only explanation that makes sense. He used sound and other senses to fire the gun… poorly."

"That reminds me, the monitor in that room was blaring at the time, ja? Hardly ideal conditions for tracking by sounds," Gavin said thoughtfully.

"A blind shooter…" the Judge said in shock. "No wonder he missed!"

 _I knew those bullet holes would come back and haunt me. This Wright, what do I do now!?_

" _Objection!_ " I yelled. "Sure, there were bullet holes left in the wall… but that doesn't prove the shooter couldn't see!" I announced.

"Oh? How so?" Gavin asked.

"Well, there could have been a struggle with the victim," I said.

"Hmm… that's certainly possible," the Judge said.

"And… it might have been the revolver's fault," I added.

"The revolver?" the Judge asked.

"The revolver was a very large caliber, correct?" I asked.

"It the shooter wasn't used to firing such a large weapon… why, it could dislocate their shoulder," the Judge realized.

"Exactly," I said. "The defendant, Machi Tobaye, is, as you can see, tiny. It's not so hard to picture him firing the gun and missing entirely! The kickback alone would throw off his aim," I explained. Everyone was quite for a moment.

"A convincing argument, to be sure," the Judge finally said. I smirked, crossing my arms.

 _Ha ha! Take that, smug prosecution!_

"Um, Polly?" Trucy finally said.

"Huh? What?" I asked.

"That bit about Machi being tiny… and the gun throwing off his aim? Um… aren't you kind of, um… admitting that he did it?" she asked. I thought for a moment before groaning, my spikes falling into my face.

"Oh."

"It does not matter why he missed. What matters is that the shooter was, without a doubt, the defendant. Even the defense seems to agree on that point," Gavin said with a smirk.

"Uhh…" I mumbled. _Cripes! I really put my foot in it this time!_

"But, let's get the facts of the matter on the record. If you would, Fräulein Detective," Gavin said.

"Very well. The witness will add this to her testimony."

"Right," Ema said.

"From the state of the crime scene, I conclude the shooter was blind," Ema said.

" _Objection!_ " I yelled. "You can't say he was blind just because of those bullet holes in the wall! I think I've proven that!" I countered.

"I wouldn't call it 'proof,' per se," Ema said.

"Huh?"

"You merely raised a 'possibility.'"

"Fräulein Detective has made a most logical conjecture based upon the evidence. Of course, there is more evidence that just the bullet holes. The defendant was the only one who could have escaped through the air vent," Gavin said.

" _Objection!_ " I yelled. "But wait! If he was blind… how would he know about the air vent in the first place?" I asked.

"Ah, a very good point. Well, Fräulein Detective? If you would care to explain?" Gavin asked.

 _He certainly seems sure of himself…_ I noticed.

"Recall the crime scene, if you would. There was a stepladder below the air vent. As it happens, maintenance was scheduled for that day. Custodial staff went around checking all the air vents.

 _That's right! Uncle Valant and I were worried they'd mess up our trick…_

"Everyone backstage was told about the maintenance if you recall… including Machi Tobaye. He would have known that there would be a way out at the top of that stepladder."

"Ugh… Great…" I sighed.

"Looks like the defense's objection has been squished by a stepladder," the Judge said.

"Well, Herr Forehead? Out of ammunition, perhaps?" Gavin asked, leaning forward, a gleam in his eye.

 _I've never seen Gavin so… aggressive! Maybe he's caught the scent of blood,_ I thought.

"Polly, don't you have something? Anything? You know what we need… we need something to prove the killer could see! That'll put him in his place!" Trucy gasped.

 _Proving the shooter was sighted would do it. That would take down one of their central points… do I have evidence that can—that's it!_

"I have just the thing!" I declared.

"As I knew you would, Herr Forehead," Gavin smirked.

"The defense will please present their evidence. Evidence that overturns the prosecution's claim that the shooter couldn't see!" the Judge commanded. I nodded with a smirk, turning to the monitor.

"Let's take a look at the crime scene," I said. It appeared on screen, though I noticed Gavin was smirking.

"The photograph of the crime scene…?" the Judge asked.

 _I don't care much for the smirk on Prosecutor Gavin's face… but this is no time to think twice… time to press on!_ "Yes, Your Honor, the crime scene. There is something in here that decisively contradicts the prosecution's point!" I said.

"Then perhaps you'd best show us this 'something,' ja?" Gavin suggested. I smirked, using my laser pointer to point out the smeared blood in front of Mr. LeTouse's hand.

"The contradiction is right here!"

"The smeared _blood stains!_ " Ema gasped.

"Hmm… I thought it was just my blurry vision," the Judge admitted. "But it really was blurry! The way the victim's hand is raised above his head… much like a gesture I have seen many times in this court."

"It's almost as if he wrote something…" Ema asked.

"Aha! I get it! At least, I think I get it!" Trucy gasped.

"Get what, Fräulein?" Gavin asked.

"When Mr. LeTouse was shot, he tried to write something! And what would he write but the shooter's name? And what would he write it in but his own blood? Pretty good, huh?" she asked with a grin.

 _Thanks for making my point for me…_ "Yes, in fact, that's what I think happened here," I said.

"Hmm… that does seem to be a distinct possibility," the Judge agreed.

"The victim wrote the killer's name… it's certainly a logical conclusion," Ema said.

"Drat! I just wish it wasn't all rubbed out like that," Trucy sighed.

"Of course it's rubbed out. Why, if I were a killer… I certainly wouldn't want to leave my own name behind!" the Judge gasped.

"Neither would I," Gavin said, that infuriating smirk still in place. Everyone fell quite. I looked between them for a moment.

"Um… no one has anything else to say?" I asked.

"About what?" the Judge asked.

"So the prosecution accepts this?" I demanded, looking at Gavin. "You agree this was the victim making an attempt to record the name of the killer? And that the killer tried to rub his name out?" I said.

"What's your point?" Ema asked.

"What's my point!?" I gasped. _Are they really that blind!? Er… no pun intended…_ "Let me ask you this: How did the killer know the victim was writing their name?" I asked.

"Well, Mr. LeTouse was writing something in blood. Once the killer saw what it was… wait," Ema froze, her eyes going wide, a hand to her cheek. The judge was still oblivious.

"Once he 'saw' what it was…?"

"But what did you just testify about the shooter?" I asked. Ema looked at me.

"I said… they were blind. Ack!" she gasped.

"Yet the crime scene itself contradicts that!" I announced, pointing at the picture, before slamming my fists down on the desk. "The killer had to have been able to see! Why would they rub out the name in the blood otherwise?"

"Ah… ahh…" Ema mumbled. I continued to press the matter.

"May I remind the court that the defendant, Machi Tobaye, is blind! He couldn't have been the shooter!"

"Impossible!" Ema cried.

"Order! Order! Order!" the judge yelled, quieting the noise suddenly coming from the audience. "P-Prosecutor Gavin! Please explain to me what all this means!" he demanded. Gavin stayed quiet, snapping his fingers. "I mean, looking at this photo… it seems quite clear that the shooter _could see!_ Yet, up until now…"

"It seems I owe the court an apology…" Gavin said, looking up.

"Hmm?" the Judge asked.

"The Gavinners are a band with law enforcement ties, yet a murder occurred… during our concert! Apparently, this caused some confusion over jurisdiction. As a result, some reports were not filed in an entirely timely manner," he explained.

 _I… I'm not sure I like the vibe I'm getting here._

"Hey Polly, look at him. Why is Prosecutor Gavin all relaxed and smiling like that?" Trucy asked. "Like he knows something we don't… and he's about to tell us."

Gavin laughed. "I've got an idea… let's rock! With this documents," he said, pulling papers from his briefcase. A bailiff came over to take them. "But before that. I have a question for the Fräulein Detective. If I may?"

"Wh-what?" Ema demanded as the bailiff walked over to the document viewer that would show the papers on screen. He waited for Gavin's signal.

"Tell me… why do you think that Machi Tobaye is blind?" Gavin asked.

"Huh?" Ema asked.

"What did he say?" I gasped. "Wait…!" I thought back to all the times I'd seen Lamiroir and Machi together while I was setting up the magic trick.

Those two walking hand-in-hand. _Machi_ being the one to tug Lamiroir out of the path of other people. Machi reacting a second sooner to things going on than Lamiroir.

Even when discussing the magic trick, Mr. LeTouse would tell her in Borginian, while Machi would trace seemingly random patterns on the back of her hand.

 _No way…_ I thought in horror. _I even proved that Machi didn't have to be blind to to miss that first shot!_

Gavin pointed to the bailiff, he and Ema having continued their conversation while I tuned out for a few minutes. "I have a report here on the defendant, Machi Tobaye. According to this, Machi Tobaye… can see perfectly well."

"What…?" Ema asked.

"His blindness was merely a publicity ploy by those clever Borginians. He can see quite well," Gavin explained.

" _Objection!_ " I yelled. "B-but you said…

"What did I say, exactly?" Gavin asked. I lurched back, realization striking yet again for the second time in three minutes. "Herr Forehead, not once in the course of this trial… have I claimed the defendant was blind. The only one who did was Fräulein Detective."

"But that's…" Trucy began.

"A significant fact, yes! Consider: Machi Tobaye sees. And he was the only one who could have fled through the air vent. I see no problem with this," Gavin said.

"But what about the bullet holes in the wall?" Ema demanded.

"Yes, the bullet holes. I believe Herr Forehead neatly explained those for us. He didn't miss because he couldn't see. It was the kickback from the .45-Caliber revolver. A simple accident, in other words," Gavin countered.

"P-Polly? Can he do that?" Trucy asked. "Withholding evidence like that?"

"Unfortunately… yes. Dad's done stuff like this before," I admitted. "It falls under the Laws of Evidence. A Lawyer can present evidence in a trail, even if the other side has not seen it, so long as it pertains to the case," I explained.

"Then he should have presented it sooner!" Trucy growled.

"He didn't have to. Ema came up with a theory as to why Machi missed. Before he could object, I stuck my foot in my mouth, like he just said. The _need_ to present it didn't arise until just now." I looked over at her. "Besides, he's a prosecutor, doing his job to get the defendant proven guilty. Why would he present evidence that would hurt his case?"

"Eh… right…" Trucy sighed.

"This is where the real fun begins, Herr Forehead!" Gavin said with a grin.

"You… you jerk!" Ema snapped, glaring at Gavin, her face bright red with embarrassment. "Just what was I in here for? Comic relief!?"

"Yeah!" Trucy snapped. "Apologize!"

Gavin laughed at the twos' tempers. "Oh, sorry!"

"That's no way to apologize!" Trucy growled.

 _He's angered the Trucy now. Look out…_

"Ahem," the Judge cleared his throat. "If we can please end the bickering. Now."

He almost sounded like a parent, threatening to turn this car around…

"Whatever! I'm not leaving! I can't leave like this." Ema crossed her arms and looked away with a scowl. "I'll come up with some clue to solving this case if it kills me!"

"But your testimony has already given us enough to convict the defendant…" the Judge said.

 _Ugh, don't say that…_

Suddenly, Ema started laughing, startling everyone.

"What is it?" I asked.

"The blood stain… the criminal tried to wipe it off, right? Ema asked.

"That seems to be what happened, yes," I replied.

"We might be able to find out what was really written here!"

"Really!?" I gasped. "You can do that?"

"That's right, with this!" Ema said, pulling a spray bottle from her bag. "It's called Luminol! Maybe you know of it? It's a chemical that reacts to blood," she explained.

"Ah yes, have we done those tests yet?" Gavin asked.

"Hah! As if I'm going to tell you!" Ema snapped, obviously still sour.

"The blood stains covered a section of the carpet. In order to perform blood tests, that section was removed and submitted. Perhaps we should request it here in court now," Gavin suggested.

"Right! Go for it, Apollo!" Ema said, tossing me the bottle. I scrambled to catch it.

"Whoa! Huh?" I looked at her. "I have to do the test?" I asked. She grinned at me.

"You just do them so well. Just spray the luminol on the carpet section. Simple!" she said as the bailiff brought the carpet section over to me. I looked down at it.

 _A chemical that reacts to blood… Dad's used this…_

"Yes, I believe an analysis is called for. Have at it!" the Judge said. Everyone watched as I carefully sprayed the carpet square, making sure I covered it in an even coating. Soon, the bright blue reaction formed letters and numbers.

"This must be… this must be the power of science!" Trucy said brightly.

"It says… 'IPXX314206'," I said, allowing the bailiff to move it over to a camera. The image of it soon appeared on the court monitors.

"Is that the killer's name?" Ema asked.

"Hmm. Maybe it is… if the killer was a robot!" the Judge gasped. I thought I heard a soft, Clay-esque excited choking noise from the galley.

"Ah hah! I have it!" Gavin suddenly said.

"So what is it?" I asked.

"I thought those letters 'IPXX' looked familiar. This is an Interpol ID number," he exaplined.

"I-Interpol? You mean the international police agency?" Ema asked.

"Yes. Most are undercover agents working to solve international crimes. But why would he write that number…" Gavin mused.

"Why would Mr. LeTouse even know a number like that!?" I added.

"Your Honor! We can verify this number immediately. Daryan, are you there?" he turned to look at the Galley. "Come up to the witness stand!" The man did as he was told. "Daryan… you heard what we need. Go check into this Interpol ID number," he said.

"Sure thing. Gimme thirty minutes. No… Gimme twenty-seven." And with that, he was gone.

"Hmm… I'm not sure what to think of all this. The prosecution's case is airtight, or so it seems. Yet if this umber is really that of an Interpol agent…" the Judge mused.

"Oh, wait, I know… Wjhat if Machi Tobaye's really an undercover Interpol agent?" Ema suddenly said.

"That would be a possibility," Gavin added.

"A possibility, yes. And one that would mark him as the killer for certain," the Judge agreed.

 _Why did LeTouse know an Interpol ID number… that's what I want to know._

"Well, we have some time while we await Daryan's report. Let's work on unraveling another mystery, shall we? A curious mystery concerning Machi Tobaye," Gavin said.

 _I think I know where this is going…_

"Fräulein Detective, please accept my apologies. I received word that the defendant could, in fact, see, just before the trail began." Ema smiled at Gavin's words. "It seemed too much a bother to tell you," he added, and Ema's face became thunderous once again.

"You had me until that last bit."

"Does this not raise a rather straightforward question?" he asked.

"Well, sure," Ema said, looking away thoughtfully, tugging on a lock of her hair. "Why did Machi pretend he couldn't see?"

"Exactly… it makes little sense. What do you think, Herr Forehead?" Gavin asked, looking at me.

 _He's known from the start of the trial…_ I realized. I sighed, taking a deep breath.

"He was pretending he couldn't see… because of Lamiroir," I announced.

"Lamiroir!? Wasn't she supposed to be the 'landscape painter in sound' or something?" Ema asked.

"Well, since we have her here…" Gavin began. "Why not ask Lamiroir herself? I believ she is still in the witness waiting room."

"P-Polly… what does this mean for our case!?" Trucy asked.

"No clue. I didn't realize it until a few moments ago," I admitted.

"Bailiff! Bring in Lamiroir!" the Judge commanded. A few moments later, the singer was back on the stand, this time by Gavin's request, not mine.

Another realization struck.

 _This is why he was so against us cross-examining her earlier! Of course she couldn't_ see _the crime!_

"Lamiroir. It pains me deeply to call you before us again in this way. And yet I must," Gavin said.

"Please, do not be concerned on my behalf," Lamiroir said. I peered at the blue eyes peeking out from between the hood and the veil. They seemed… hauntingly familiar. As though I'd seen them a million times, growing up.

 _Those eyes… they're so familiar. But... she really can't see? Really?_

"It's true," Lamiroir suddenly said, snapping me out of my thoughts. I even jumped slightly. "How funny it is that a tiny lie born in the Borginian countryside… would one day grow to entangle the entire world…"

"So… so you are…?" the Judge stammered.

"Yes. As I mentioned before… I have no memory of the time before I became Lamiroir. Know too that my memories begin in darkness. The word 'light' has no meaning for Lamiroir," she explained.

"I see…" the Judge sighed sadly.

"You may recall me saying something toward the beginning of this trail, Herr Forehead," Gavin said. I looked at him, thinking back to my earlier realization.

"That this crime has no 'direct' witnesses," I said.

"Ja. Of course, I had questioned Herr Terran yesterday. I know of the witness's last words, and had planned to call him to the stand. But learning, today, that Lamiroir was blind, I had decided against that," he explained. I nodded, understanding. He turned to the singer. "Now, Lamiroir, I must ask you to stand once more. Well you testify to the court about your eyes?" Gavin asked.

"Of course. It was never my intent to deceive any of you. May I begin, Your Honor?" Lamiroir asked.

"Uh, yes, yes of course. Though I admit, I'm a little lost here," he said. I sighed softly, my bangs drooping.

 _You're not the only one…_

"I have no memory of the 'light.' I debuted in a world of darkness and sound. My producer came up with my PR line before he knew this. So, silly as it may sound, I had to pretend I could see. Everyone on my staff knew, of course, but no others," Lamiroir testified.

"But… this is a murder trial!" the Judge gasped.

"I apologize. It was part of my contract, you see. I was to keep my blindness a secret, no matter what. Music is everything for me. I never imagined something like this would…" she trailed off, her eyes glistening.

"She told us the truth in the beginning. When she said she 'saw nothing,'" Gavin said. I nodded, touching my wrist where my bracelet sat. _Of course she did…_

"Very well. Does the defense have anything to add?" the Judge asked. I hesitated a moment before nodding.

"I'd like to cross-examine."

"But, what is there left to ask!?" Trucy gasped.

"There was one thing in her testimony that bothered me," I admitted.

"Perhaps it is best we let you get it out of your system. Someday, you'll come to understand… the importance of thinking for yourself," Gavin said with a smirk. I scowled at him.

"Very well. The defense may proceed. However… be aware this court will not tolerate any questions deemed too stressful to the witness."

"Okay," I said. _It's just this one thing…_

"When you said your staff, do you include Mr. LeTouse?" I asked.

"Of course," Lamiroir replied. "He was my manager."

 _So he knew… and that's what's been bugging me!_

"Something the matter, Mr. Wright?" the Judge asked.

"I believe I know what is bothering our young defense attorney. You are thinking of your friend's testimony of when he discovered the body, ja?" Gavin asked. I looked over at him quickly.

"Is he right, Polly?" Trucy asked.

"Yes, I was," I said as answer. "Mr. Terran testified that Mr. LeTouse told him to ask the witness, and he named you," I said. Her eyes grew wide, surprised and confused. "Why would he do that? He knew you were blind!"

"I… I don't know…" Lamiroir breathed, sounding sincere.

"Tsk, tsk." Gavin shook his head. "What did I just say? You need to learn to think for yourself."

"Meaning what?" I asked.

"There was one other thing our victim told Mr. Terran. He said 'can't see,'" Gavin said. I quickly looked over at Clay, who looked shocked.

"Is that true, Cl-Mr. Terran!?" I asked, remembering formality at the last second. He stood, answering from in front of his seat.

"Y-yeah, but I thought he meant his own vision was fading… not that the witness couldn't see…" he replied. I internally groaned. _That is a reasonable assumption…_

"That's right. He tried to tell Mr. Terran. When he said 'can't see' he wasn't talking about himself. He was talking around the witness!"

"I see!" the Judge gasped.

"Too bad the defense didn't ask for enough information when he had the chance. Well, Mr. Terran? Next time, try gathering as much information as you can _before_ wasting the court's time!"

 _That statement seems contradictory…_ I thought, my spikes drooping into my eyes.

"Recall Lamiroir's earlier testimony," Gavin said. "She said she was on her way from the stage to the backstage exit. She heard two shots, but couldn't do anything."

"But she couldn't have heard those gunshots! I thought we proved that…" the Judge gasped.

"That is not the most important point here," Gavin countered.

"Huh?"

"The moment he was shot, Mr. LeTouse 'witnessed' her through that window in the back of the room. Why else would he have named her as the witness?" Gavin laid out.

"Ah…" I muttered.

"But I really did hear them! Two gunshots… and a man's voice!" Lamiroir insisted. I watched her, searching for any sign of deception.

There was none.

"Unfortunately, such a thing was impossible. The window was closed. We have already run a simulation, of course," Gavin said.

"But it was so clear… if I heard that voice again, I would know it in an instant," Lamiroir insisted.

"Hmm…" the Judge hummed.

"Your Honor!" the Bailiff suddenly gasped.

"What is it, Bailiff? Can't you tell we're in session here!?" the Judge demanded.

"We have the results back from the investigation!" the man replied.

"The investigation?" the Judge asked.

"Ah, the Interpol number that Mr. LeTouse left us," Gavin said.

"Ah! Well let's hear it!" the Judge gasped. "We will continue this cross-examination afterward. Detective Crescend! Your report please!"

As Lamiroir stepped away from the stand, Crescend stepped up.

"I asked Interpol about that number. I'm sure you'll find their answer intriguing." Lamiroir froze, her hand resting on the short wall that separated the galley from the rest of the court. "'IPXX314206'… the agent registered under that number… was Romein LeTouse," he said, regaining my full, undivided attention.

"What…?" Gavin gasped, taken aback.

"Our undercover Interpol agent was Mr. LeTouse himself! He was apparently in the middle of an operation," Crescend explained.

"So, when he wrote those letters…" I began.

"…He was trying to tell us his own identity. And a cautious killer tried to wipe them away," Crescend finished.

"Mr. LeTouse was an undercover Interpol agent… so him being Lamiroir's manager…" Trucy began.

"…Was just a cover, most likely," I finished.

"There's one other important detail I found," Crescend said.

"Well, out with it," Gavin said.

"It concerns that .45-caliber revolver, the murder weapon. Apparently, it belonged to Romein LeTouse. He had an Interpol permit to carry firearms. And the registration number on the revolver matched," he said.

"So the victim was killed with his own weapon, which makes sense. It's hard to imagine someone who wasn't an Interpol agent with such a large revolver," Gavin mused.

 _So the victim was an Interpol agent on an undercover op… I wonder how that ties into everything…_

"This has to tie in somehow, you'd think," Trucy said, as though she had read my thoughts. I smiled slightly at that before growing serious once more.

"Yeah, somehow…"

"Thanks for looking into that for us, Detective Crescend. It's a great help," the Judge said.

"Oh, no problem at all, Your Honor," the man said with a smile. "I'll be heading out."

" _Hold it!_ " Lamiroir suddenly cried, having not moved from where she stood. "Wait!"

"La-Lamiroir! Is something the matter?" the Judge asked.

"That voice just now…" she said softly.

"Daryan?" Gavin asked in confusion.

"Mr. Daryan, is it…?" She was silent a moment, before tipping her head up in determination. "It was him. I am sure of it."

"It was 'him'?" the Judge asked in confusion. Gavin instantly got it, lurching back for a moment before leaning heavily on the bench, sweat pouring down his face.

"Y-you aren't saying-!?" he gasped.

"That voice I heard talking to Mr. LeTouse…" her voice was growing stronger with each word. "When I heard the gunshots fired. It was him! It was Mr. Daryan!"

"Is this some kind of a joke!?" Gavin demanded, grabbing and shaking his head, his bangs hiding his face. I lurched back from the bench in my own right.

"Whaaaaat!?" I gasped.

"…No way…" Crescend muttered, looking angry and nervous at the same time.

The courtroom, at that moment, fell into chaos. The Judge, unable to regain control, had to suspend the trial temporarily. I'd never seen that happen before. Of course, it's not every day that you get an accusation like that one. Lamiroir, fingering Daryan Crescend. Not only is he in a famous rock band, but he's also a detective!

 _Could it really have been his voice Lamiroir heard? Things are changing fast, and frankly, I don't know if I can keep up…_

…

 **A/N:** So… long… ugh…

Alright. A (long) note to justify something in this chapter. I used to think poorly of Gavin for withholding the fact that Machi can see, just like a majority of the fanbase. But recently, I saw a video, condemning Phoenix for doing the SAME THING! (which, he really does in the original trilogy: withholding evidence from the prosecution until such a time where it would benefit his case). This video points out that, in the United States court system, that wouldn't fly, which is correct. All evidence must be registered so that both parties can examine it and create arguments against it.

There was a rebuttal video, a la Ace Attorney style. This video reminds us that the court system is based off of JAPAN courts, but also that the AA-Universe has its own set of rules and laws, including Evidence Laws, as seen in Rise From the Ashes. The second evidence law is that a lawyer may present evidence so long as it pertains to the case at hand, even if it's not previously registered to the court. This law doesn't say when/how, leaving plenty of loopholes for lawyers to exploit. _Which every lawyer in this series does._ I mean, come on now. _Updated Autopsy Report_ , anyone?

Which brings me to my next point: Apollo's justification of it in this AU. I didn't do this because he and Gavin are friend. Apollo Wright is a little more law savvy then his canon counterpart, Apollo Justice, _because he grew up under a legendary (ex-)lawyer_. He ransacked _all_ of Phoenix's personal files. Which means you can be sure he also found that book Gant gave Phoenix in RftA.

If you want to know what those videos were, just ask!

Well, I don't think I have anything else to say here. This is the official start of my Hiatus. Sorry!

Also, for those of you who will place _Spirit of Justice,_ **NO SPOILERS IN THE REVIEWS. THEY WILL BE DELETED.**

So I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


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